


Take You Anywhere

by chalk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, gratuitous mentions of food, this is set in america i’m sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chalk/pseuds/chalk
Summary: Hinata needs a way to get across the country for his sister’s graduation, and Atsumu has a car, some extra vacation days, and feelings he just isn’t ready to think about. Surely they can make it without any bumps in the road.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 16
Kudos: 58





	Take You Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isseysport](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isseysport/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Kay! I’m sorry this is late, I didn’t expect to be more than like 2k, but here we are...
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Oh, this is set in America because that was the easiest way for me to write a road trip. 😭

_ Can I do this? _

White knuckles grip the steering wheel as the car slows down to a speed he can control. Atsumu prays that he didn’t make a terrible mistake by offering to drive Hinata across the country because looking at their current situation, he isn’t sure that he can get either of them  _ anywhere _ together in one piece. Not tonight, not ever.

Hinata was a good friend in a bind trying to find last minute plane tickets so that he wouldn’t miss his sister’s graduation, and Atsumu, who is always more than happy to lend a hand, had unused vacation days.

It made sense to him to offer to drive rather than Hinata not getting to go at all because there weren’t any available flights, so after assuring Hinata that it wasn’t an inconvenience at all fifty  _ million _ times, Hinata agreed under the one condition that he cover all of their snacks. (Which are apparently necessary for road trips to go smoothly).

So there he is, maneuvering his car down a too slick highway with an open bag of pizza flavored Combos wedged between his thighs, leaning forward over the wheel so that he can try his best to see through the rain and not sure which part of this counts as  _ going smoothly.  _

“What time is it?”

The clock on the radio blinks the time about fifteen minutes fast, but he wants to hear Hinata’s voice. He needs to hear him because maybe having a reminder that he doesn’t exist in a vacuum and that this isn’t just an isolated nightmare will make him come to his senses, and as much as he hates the idea of Hinata knowing that his safety and wellbeing are currently bouncing around in Atsumu’s sweaty palms, he doesn’t want to endure it alone.

“Quarter after midnight.”

His voice is thick and soft, tired from being out of use for so long and hoarse, Atsumu suspects, from singing too loudly while they crossed across a barren desert to keep themselves entertained, and oh how stupid he was for complaining about being bored then. 

He thought that the worst part of the trip had been and was going to be the hours spent driving through  _ nothing  _ while the scenery remained frozen in time even while the stubble around his mouth grew, but at least the desert was  _ dry.  _

“You awake,” he asks, suddenly feeling guilty for dragging Hinata into this.

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

What is he supposed to say? No? “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Shoyo, please,” he says, a little too harshly, but Hinata has the good sense to keep his mouth shut about it and not take it personally because it isn’t personal. He’s just  _ extremely  _ stressed out. They both are.

The downpour beats his car faster than his windshield wipers can keep up with, and the tightening in his chest makes it harder and harder to breathe. It’s late and dark, and it takes everything he has to just keep the car from slinging itself off the road. Hinata understands. He gets it, but Atsumu will still stop to apologize after he gets them through this.

“Pull over if you need to,” Hinata shouts over the rain so he can hear him. He tries his best to offer some kind of reassurance that he’s right there with him, but Atsumu sees him pull his knees to his chest out of the corner of his eye, just as scared as he is. It only makes him more determined.

“I can’t see well enough,” Atsumu says. “I don’t wanna put us in a ditch.”

Hinata stays quiet for a few minutes before offering up something a little more helpful. “Look, lights.”

Atsumu squints and leans forward even closer than he already was, enough that his forehead bumps the glass. There’s a red and yellow glow in the distance probably from a gas station, and he’s faced with a choice. They can either sit in the parking lot until the storm passes, or he can keep going and not lose any more time. 

He initially wanted to put as much distance as he could between them and their starting point before switching spots with Hinata (who is supposed to be sleeping, not watching him struggle), but now he isn’t so sure he can go on. He’s not so sure he  _ should _ go on.

Once they get closer, he sees a row of white glowing panels, and he realizes, to his relief, that they’ve found a roadside diner right off of a truck stop and thinks that maybe his luck has been restored. 

He slows down and pulls off the highway with a bounce as the front of his car hits a dip in the broken pavement. Hinata lets out a surprised  _ oof  _ as it jerks him forward, and if the circumstances were any different, Atsumu would laugh at him before apologizing to the car.

They pull up to the diner and run for the door to avoid getting too wet, and the air conditioning hits them both with a shock. It’s  _ too  _ cold. What are they keeping the meat under the cash register or something?

Hinata swears quietly under his breath as he rubs his own arms to warm himself. Atsumu looks at him and smiles fondly, ignoring the fact that his own teeth are chattering. 

They grab an empty booth in the corner, and Atsumu picks up a menu from the rack on the table. He pretends to look at all the different variations of eggs and patty melts like there’s something particularly remarkable about this specific diner menu, unable to actually focus on anything thanks to his own unsettled nerves. 

“Are you going to eat,” Hinata half mumbles. Normally the bouncing ray of sunshine would have already rattled off everything he wanted to try, but Hinata is  _ tired.  _ They both are.

“I’ll probably just get a coffee to keep me awake,” he drawls, wondering when the adrenaline is going to run out.

“You should eat. You don’t look good.”

Atsumu lets out a weak laugh, more amused than anything. “What? You don’t like my slightly damp, boyish charm?”

“I’m fine with it usually, but I don’t think anxious and clammy suits you.”

Atsumu picks up his phone and turns on the front facing camera to see what Hinata means and finds a bloodless face staring back at him with shadows under his eyes. “Oh, that’s not pretty.”

“I mean, while we’re here, might as well have… what’s that meal between breakfast and dinner?”

“Lunch?”

“No, the other way,” he waves his hand. “Like right now.”

“A midnight snack?”

“I guess,” Hinata says, unsatisfied.

Atsumu shakes his head stubbornly. “If I get full, I’ll wanna curl up in the back of the car and take a nap.”

“You can,” he offers. “I’m fine to drive.”

“I don’t want ya driving in this.”

“What, are you worried about me or something,” he laughs.

“No, I just don’t want ya to flip my car while I’m sleepin’,” he teases.

“Can I get y’all something to drink,” a waitress asks, finally able to get to their table. He hadn’t noticed the fleet of semis outside when they got there, too busy worrying about getting inside to safety, but the diner is filled with truckers and other late night travelers waiting out the same storm. Good, he thinks. He made the right decision. 

“Coffee is fine,” Atsumu says, slipping the menu back in its holder as if he needed it to know if they served coffee or not.

“I’ll have a coffee too.” Hinata earns a glare from Atsumu because  _ he  _ is supposed to be sleeping. That’s how long road trips  _ work. _

“I’m sorry, all we have is decaf right now,” she says. Decaf only coffee at a roadside diner in the middle of the night when he needs to stay awake sounds like something from a nightmare. This is supposed to be a place for fuel, not powerless bean juice.

“Can I switch to water,” Hinata asks.

“Me too.”

She hums in agreement as she scratches out the orders on the pad in her hands. “Do you already know what you want, or do you need a minute?”

Atsumu hadn’t planned on eating anything, but after hearing that he won’t even get any coffee, his stomach takes control of his actions. Besides, they can’t  _ just _ get water. People have to make a living, after all.

He looks at Hinata with an inquisitive expression. 

“Oh, I’m ready if you know.”

“We’re ready,” Atsumu says to the waitress.

She scribbles down their orders for a late night breakfast, both different and yet somehow exactly the same, but that’s probably just because of the standard diner menu and nothing more, and leaves them alone.

It’s quiet except for the sounds of forks and knives hitting the other diners’ plates and the staff calling out orders over the sizzling griddle. Normally he and Hinata too would be part of the noise, but right now neither one of them feels up to it.

Hinata is staring out the window. The rain has yet to let up, but the haze in his eyes suggests that it doesn’t matter if he can see through it or not. He’s thinking, worried even, probably from the stress of the last hour or so mixed with the fear that he might not make it in time and that this was all for nothing. Atsumu knows because that’s all he can think about too.

Atsumu stretches out one of his legs and gives him a gentle kick. Hinata blinks at him, startled, but his face lights up like the Hinata Atsumu– like the Hinata Atsumu is most familiar with. 

“We’ll get there in time.”

Hinata offers a faint smile, but he doesn’t say anything. Atsumu knows it's not a promise he can easily keep at this moment, but he’ll try his best because this was what he was entrusted to do.

A few minutes later the waitress returns with a tray of piping hot food, and just the sight of it is more invigorating than any cup of coffee could have ever been. He didn’t realize how much he needed this, but he’s so glad that he has it now.

Hinata shuffles excitedly in his seat as she places the cheesy scrambled eggs and bacon down in front of him. Such a kid, Atsumu thinks warmly. With Hinata looking more like himself, he lets himself eat comfortably in silence while he comes up with a plan.

“We should wait here until the storm passes,” Atsumu says as he dunks a toast wedge into his spilled yolk. “I think there’s an old jukebox in the back.”

“Are we trying to make memories,” Hinata laughs. “I thought that wasn’t your thing.”

“I’m tryna stay awake,” he says before tearing off the corner with his teeth. It's buttery and warm, and he wonders why the toast he makes at home never tastes this good.

“I’m assuming you saw the motel next door,” Hinata juts his thumb towards the window. 

“What about it?”

“We could stay there until morning so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“That’ll put us several hours off,” Atsumu says, worried about getting Hinata home in time.

“We’re already several hours off,” he sighs. “I think my mom won’t get mad if she finds out we stopped because the road wasn’t safe.”

“Ah, good point.”

“I mean, she might be a little mad,” Hinata considers, and Atsumu gulps. “You might have to tell her how pretty she is when you see her.”

“You want me to flirt with yer mom?” Atsumu laughs brightly.

“I’m just saying that for the greater good, perhaps some flattery might help.”

“Shameless,” he shakes his head and focuses his attention back to his food. “If it’ll make ya feel better, if it doesn’t stop storming by the time we’re done, we can stop for the night and I will kiss up to yer mom the whole time we’re there for making you almost a whole day late.”

At that moment, both of their phones go off with emergency alerts that make them both jump in their seats. Atsumu looks at the screen and sees that there’s a tornado warning in the area. He looks around for a TV to see if the staff will put on the news, but he doesn’t find one.

“Goin’ on down to the Motel 6,” Hinata sings to himself in a thick, exaggerated twangy accent that mimics Atsumu’s. He insists he doesn’t talk like that, but Hinata never listens.

“Are ya happy,” he asks dryly.

“Yes,” he gives him a smug smile, scrunching up his nose in his own special  _ little shit  _ way. Atsumu slouches down in his booth and sighs as he jabs his fork lazily into a sausage patty. “Oh, don’t pout. My mom will get over it, I promise.”

“I’m not poutin’,” he says, pouting.

“I took a screenshot of the tornado warning,” Hinata offers. “If she says anything, I can just show her we were trying to be safe.”

“I just feel bad, y’know?”

“I know,” he says. “But like, you can’t drive in that.  _ I  _ can’t drive in that. And what’s a road trip without a night at a shady ass hotel next door to a diner that only serves decaf?”

Atsumu groans and laughs. “What’re the odds?”

Hinata shrugs, but his gaze falls back outside towards the rain, and Atsumu can tell that he’s worried. Not only for their safety, but if he misses Natsu’s graduation, he’ll never forgive himself, and Atsumu probably won’t be able to forgive himself for it either. After all, this was his idea.

“You know what? It’s gonna be fine,” he shifts his mood into something cheerful and energetic for Hinata’s sake despite the exhaustion he feels. “We can grab a couple rooms and pretend we’re on vacation somewhere super awesome.”

“Are you mimicking me,” he laughs, and it’s a small ray of light in the storm.

“I’m always supportive ‘n positive ‘n the best person in the whole world,” Atsumu insists. “Whatever do ya mean?”

Hinata sits up in his seat and raises his shoulders. “Is that how you would describe me?”

Atsumu makes a disgusted face and shakes his head. “This is about me now. I’m bein’ a hero.”

It’s true that Hinata is always supportive and positive and the best person in the whole world, but he would have to physically put his fork to Atsumu’s throat to get him to admit that out loud. He wonders what Hinata would think if he knew that they were always on the tip of his tongue along with all the other things that make up why Atsumu is happy that Hinata came into his life.

Why he’s happy he’s his friend.

Hinata opens his mouth to rebut, but a bolt of lightning strikes so close to the building that it startles them both, effectively changing the subject for them.

It rains harder than before, if that’s even possible, and they both come to the conclusion that they were never going to be able to  _ just _ wait it out like Atsumu had wanted to. 

After they finish eating, Hinata heads up to the register to pay, staying true to his promise to feed them both for the trip, while Atsumu runs to the car to unlock both doors. Having manual locks never bothered him before because it’s not like it rains much back home, but if he could go back in time, he would be a smarter man who doesn’t think restoring old muscle cars is cool. Okay, no he wouldn’t, but he would consider it.

Hinata runs out soon and slams the car door behind him after he practically flings himself inside, shivering from getting soaked to the bone again. “God, this sucks.”

“Yeah it does,” he agrees. He drives them across the parking lot to the hotel and circles the flat, sandy brown building until they find the sign for the main office. “You wanna wait here while I run in and get us a couple rooms?”

“I need to go in too to book my own,” Hinata says as he leans over to dig the wallet out of his back pocket. Atsumu’s never booked more than one room before at a time so it’s not something he’s ever thought about. If his family ever went on trips, his parents always worried about that stuff, but he supposes if he goes into a place like this with Hinata’s credit card  _ without  _ Hinata, it might not go so well.  _ No officer, I didn’t steal it! He’s in the car! I’m being chivalrous, I swear! _

“I can pay for it. No point in you gettin’ out again just because I suck at drivin’.”

“No, it’s fine,” he insists. “A hotel room is kind of a lot… I’d feel bad.”

“It’s only like fifty bucks a room,” Atsumu says. “We spent more than that at the 7/11 before leavin’ the city. Just stay in the car so we both don’t have to suffer. If you get rained on, you’ll shrink.”

Atsumu barely hears the  _ hey!  _ Hinata shouts at him as he gets out of the car and into the rain hammering down onto the pavement.

He runs inside by himself, holding his hands above his head to shield his face from what’s about to hit him. A wall of dirty water comes down from the awning, and based on the certain unpleasantness he feels happening in his underwear as soon as he clears it, the whole stream managed to angle itself just perfectly enough to pour directly right down his ass crack.

Suddenly he feels very thankful that he’s about to be inside a warm hotel room instead of back in the car for twelve hours like this because he most certainly would be facing a nasty rash and a tetanus shot otherwise.

The door opens with a chime, and he’s met with a burst of cold air that almost  _ hurts _ , and he realizes he's never really done this before. This is not the 2 a.m Travelocity visit he’s used to, and he straightens his back to try to make it less obvious that he might be nervous.

He approaches the front desk and looks through the safety glass that separates him from whoever is supposed to be waiting on the other side. It’s empty except for the rows and rows of numbered keys hanging up on the back wall and a messy stack of paperwork and receipts scattered all over the desk. 

He wonders if he should wait a few minutes for someone to notice that he’s there or if he should clear his throat a few times to make himself known, but then he sees the button taped loosely against the counter with a sketchy white wire feeding from it into a hole drilled haphazardly into the wall. 

Risking electrocution, he gives it a firm press and hears an electric buzz that sounds a lot like something else he expected to hear in a cheap motel like this one. He shudders at the thought and prays that this is a clean place, but soon (almost immediately) he will learn to be careful of what he wishes for.

The clerk comes around the corner not long after with an unlit cigarette wedged between his teeth like Atsumu caught him right before his smoke break.

“Can I help you,” he asks, taking a heavy seat in a rolling chair behind the glass. It squeaks as he’s jerked back, and Atsumu thinks the back will probably snap one day if he keeps that up. Hopefully not tonight. Hopefully not before he gets them booked.

“I need a couple of rooms for the night.”.

“Only got one room open,” the clerk says, clacking away at an old windows keyboard.

Atsumu eyes the wall of keys behind him and notes the empty parking lot outside and frowns. “There’s no one else here.”

“Everything else is closed for cleaning,” he huffs. “Monthly maintenance.”

“Ah, okay,” he says even though he thinks that shutting everything down at once would be bad for business, but then again, they’re the only customers anyway so what does he know. It’s fine though because it’s not like they can’t share a room. They’re friends, and it’s cheaper this way, but still he can’t help but feel annoyed. “One room is fine then.”

The clerk spins around in his chair and scoots himself towards the wall, taking a key from one of the middle hooks.

“That’ll be 75 even.”

Atsumu digs out his wallet and pulls out a couple of fifties he tucked away for emergencies in case he pops a tire or something on the road. 

“Sorry, we only take credit in case you break something,” he adds like he expects them to.

Atsumu smiles bitterly, trying his best to be polite. “We’ll do our best not to.”

“And don’t get anything fishy on the carpet, we just had it cleaned,” he grumbles. 

“Won’t be a problem,” he says through tightened lips. 

The clerk processes the payment and slides him back his card under the glass along with the room key and a little pamphlet with a coupon for a local haunted house tour and a free stack of pancakes from the diner next door. “Thanks.”

“Mhm,” he says. “Enjoy your stay.”

Atsumu leaves quickly and rushes to the car through the rain to deliver the bad news. Hinata takes the pamphlet from him and flips it open, not seeming to be too upset about the whole thing.

“At least there’s free pancakes,” he says.

“You’re not mad?”

“No,” Hinata laughs. “Do I ever get mad?”

“No, but I feel bad because nothin’ is goin’ like it’s supposed to.”

Hinata looks at him and frowns. “It’s just a little storm.”

Atsumu presses his damp head back against the seat and sighs. “Did you tell yer family we’re stayin’ the night?”

“I haven’t figured out how to without worrying anyone,” he admits.

“I think showin’ up eleven hours late might make them worry more.”

“I’ll call them when we get inside if the phone works because mine is dead out here.”

“I think I’ll feel better about all this when you do,” Atsumu thinks out loud. “I’m just not thrilled about pissin’ off yer family before we even get there.”

“Why,” he laughs. “What does it matter what they think?”

_ Yeah, why does it matter? I mean I want them to like me a normal amount but… _

“I guess I’m just nervous because this is my first time meetin’ them, and I wanna leave a good impression,” Atsumu considers. “Isn’t everyone like that?”

“I guess so,” Hinata says. “It’ll be fine, my mom already likes you a lot.”

“What,” he laughs brightly, already feeling better. And a little flattered.

“Yeah, my mom follows you on Instagram,” he says before raising the pitch to his voice. “Why don’t you take more pictures with your handsome tall friend with the weird haircut!”

“My haircut isn’t weird, you fuzzy traffic cone,” he whines, but then he doubles back. “Yer mom thinks I’m handsome?”

“Yes, that’s why it’s in both of our best interests that you tell her she’s pretty later so she won’t be worried,” Hinata explains, adding hand gestures to emphasize its importance.

“This is strange,” he says under his breath.

“So how long are we going to sit here,” Hinata brings them back to reality. “I feel like a guy in a hockey mask is gonna tap on the window and turn one of us into a science project.”

“I think yer gettin’ your horror movies mixed up.”

He cranks up the car with a stubborn jerk and prays that  _ this  _ doesn’t go wrong too. The engine starts like it’s supposed to after a second try, and he circles the building with Hinata squished up against the glass on lookout until they find which room is theirs. 

It’s on the first floor towards the back, and his headlights illuminate their beautiful view of the overflowing, festering dumpsters making him feel even more sorry towards Hinata.

“Stop frowning,” he says quietly.

“I’m not frownin’, I’m concentratin’.”

“Yeah, and it’s weird,“ Hinata‘s brows draw together. “Where’s my road trip buddy who almost ran us off the ramp because he had Bugles on his fingers?”

“In my defense, you can’t honestly expect me to be able to sing the whole Wicked soundtrack with you without Bugle fingers, and they were greasy.”

“That’s true, you couldn’t have,” Hinata agrees. “But don’t worry so much, okay? We’re fine. We’re safe. We’re still in the parking lot.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “Yeah, we should probably go check out our suite, right?”

“I wonder if they put those little mints on the pillows here,” Hinata says.

Atsumu snorts. “We both get our own little box of Tic Tacs next to the mousetrap and the universal remote.”

“Wow, you think this place gets cable,” Hinata asks in amazement, and Atsumu isn’t sure if he’s faking it or not. “What are we waiting for!”

“Let’s go,” Atsumu says, slapping his own thigh as he finally gets Hinata's amusement with the whole situation. It really isn’t  _ that _ bad. They’re just going to be a little late, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. As long as Hinata isn’t upset with him, he can endure it.

“We should get the bags first,” Hinata stops him.

“Eh?”

“I want to sleep in something dry that isn’t my birthday suit,” he deadpans.

Atsumu cackles. “Please don’t. I’ve had enough stress today.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Atsumu grabs the room key out of the cupholder and hands it to him. “Go ahead in and turn the heat on. I’ll grab the bags.”

“I can help carry them,” he frowns. “You don’t have to do everything.”

“There’s no need in us both gettin’ soaked,” he says. “But I call dibs on the shower.”

“So if I get the bags, I get to shower first,” Hinata asks, scratching his chin in thought.

“No, still me,” Atsumu says. “Now go!”

“Fine, dang!” Hinata shouts. “I’m going, bossy!”

He laughs to himself as Hinata gets out of the car and runs to shelter under the second floor walkway. Atsumu makes his move to the trunk with the intention of getting their bags out as fast as possible so that he won’t get drenched to the bone  _ again _ , but to his dismay, the trunk is wedged shut. He swears to himself and crouches down to get a better grip on it, but the metal latch refuses to budge.

“What’s wrong?” Hinata shouts over the sound of rain pounding against, well, everything.

“It’s stuck,” he shouts back, straining against the car. He gives it another good push before a second set of hands grab the metal next to him. “I think it’s the latch.”

“Hold on,” Hinata tells him. He takes off his jacket and holds it over the handle to block the rain. “Do you have a flashlight?”

“No,” he says. “But I can feel it, but I can’t get it.”

“Did you pop the trunk?”

“Yeah, Shoyo, I’m not stup–,” his lips snap shut. Hinata doesn’t look at him, but he can tell what he’s thinking. “Of course I did!”

“Did you,” he asks knowingly as he wipes the water out of his eyes, orange hair glued to his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“P-pretty sure,” Atsumu says. “Yeah, I totally popped it.”

“Maybe you should seek out a second opinion.”

“No, that’s okay,” he says anxiously. “Why don’tcha go inside. You can take the first shower! I’ve got this!”

Hinata looks at him and blinks. “Can I see the keys, please?”

“I already gave you the room key, don’t tell me ya lost it.”

“The  _ car  _ keys,” Hinata says, sticking his palm out. Atsumu bites his lip and shakes his head.  _ “Atsumu!” _

“Alright, fine! But I totally didn’t forget to pop the trunk,” he insists as he drops the car keys into Hinata’s hand.

Without a word, Hinata jogs around to the driver's side. He unlocks the door and reaches down to the floorboard and feels around a bit before finding something that makes Atsumu feel a small pop in his own hand. Atsumu hears a confident  _ ha!  _ as the trunk opens easily mumbles something unkind as he leans into it to retrieve their luggage.

Hinata comes back to help him carry the bags, and they walk to their room with a tired pace now that they can’t possibly get any more rained on.

Hinata unlocks the door for them, and they’re greeted by a burst of cold air just like the office, but looking into the pitch black dark makes it feel that much colder. For a second he wonders if they made a mistake, and if they did, what would he have to do to get his $75 back from Mr. I-Failed-Hospitality-School-And-There’s-Nothing-You-Can-Do-About-It.

He reaches over and flips the lightswitch to find a room just as, if not more, creepy, but at least it’s dry, and soon it’ll be warm too.

“Home sweet home,” he says, as optimistic as he can.

“It’s not so b-,” Hinata says, before letting out a croak that sends a shiver down Atsumu’s spine.

He follows Hinata’s gaze until he sees, in lieu of the two double beds he  _ assumed _ would come with the room for  _ two people  _ they booked, a nice and cozy queen sized bed smack dab in the center of the room with a forest green bedspread draped over the top, two flat white pillows at the head, and a folded white blanket at the foot in case one of them gets cold.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he says, dropping his things into a chair. “I guess this was all they had.”

“Whatever, we can share a bed,” Hinata says. “It won’t kill us.”

Unable to do anything about their situation, the two of them immediately change out of their wet clothes and take turns taking a shower. The bathroom is cramped and smells a little too much like ammonia, but the hot water is a blessing, and once again, he’s thankful he isn’t stuck in the car.

When he comes out, he finds Hinata sitting with his back to the headboard and the white blanket draped over his bent knees. He has a threefold piece of cardstock over his lap that he’s busy looking over, and Atsumu relaxes. Hinata is at home no matter where he is.

“What do you know, they do have cable,” he mutters as he looks over the channel numbers. “What do you wanna watch?”

“It’s like two in the mornin’,” Atsumu says as he crawls onto the other side of the bed. “Isn’t it just George Lopez and infomercials?”

“That’s true.” He hands Atsumu the remote and smiles warmly. “You pick.”

He sets the guide down between them and instead flips through the channels manually until a flash of a familiar sepia tone strikes his interest. “The Wizard of Oz?”

“We sang the Wicked soundtrack the whole way here.”

Atsumu laughs. “Was that today?”

“I didn’t know you were such a fan.”

“We can just go to sleep if you want,” he offers. “We’re both exhausted.”

“No, I wanna watch a movie,” Hinata insists. “I’d rather dream about this than car accidents.”

Atsumu winces. He almost forgot that the storm wasn’t only scary for him. Hinata put his life in his hands, and he’s glad this was a decision they both made even if it’s awkward and smells like ammonia.

“Good thinking,” he swallows.

“I didn’t mean– it’s just because we were both talking about it! I knew you had this! Let’s just watch the movie, okay,” he says quickly before patting the space between them. “We can’t share the blanket if you’re all the way over there.” 

Atsumu’s guilt is replaced with a nervous twist in his stomach, and he flushes as he slides towards the middle. It feels weird to go to him like this, but it’s been a weird night. But it’s Hinata. Why would it be weird?

Hinata drapes the blanket over both of their legs, and they wedge the hotel pillows behind their backs for support. Atsumu turns the volume up so they can hear the TV. It’s at the part where Dorothy runs away from home to save Toto, and he’s glad they didn’t miss it.  _ When did I become such a fan? _

_ Probably when you learned all the words to the musical, stupid. _

_ I only did that because Hinata likes to sing Defying Gravity all the time. This is his fault. _

“Auntie Em,” Hinata mimics quietly.

The storm rages outside while the tornado scene plays, making Atsumu anxious. He doesn’t want to be swept away to Oz with Hinata, he wants to make it to his mom’s house in one piece.

His whole body tenses as he watches the scene unfold, thinking about all the things that could have  _ really _ gone wrong on the road, and breathes a sigh of relief when Dorothy steps out of the house into a safer, more colorful place.

Something about the movie, the dry, safe room, and the warmth coming from Hinata’s shoulder pressed against his arm has an unexpected effect on him. His whole body relaxes as he’s finally dragged down from all the stress and adrenaline, and he has to will his head to keep from dropping forward, but it’s too heavy to hold up on his own and eventually it wins.

He falls into a shallow slumber where the characters' voices bleed unwelcome into his dreams, and he sleeps until the sound of  _ Auntie Em! Auntie Em!  _ stirs him just enough for his eyes to flutter open to find Hinata still very much awake, eyes glued to the TV. 

His cheek is jammed against Hinata’s shoulder, but Hinata doesn’t seem to mind, and Atsumu really does mean to move, but his eyelids weigh too much to keep open and this time he doesn’t fight it. It’s easy to fall asleep like this. It’s not as easy to tell himself that he doesn’t like it.

A few hours later, passing car lights wake him as someone drives by, and an unknown weight makes it hard to breathe. At some point during the night he must have slumped over because he’s no longer where he last remembers being or on the side of the bed he’s supposed to be.

Instead he wakes up on his stomach half folded up and half twisted around, and a warm tickle on the back of his neck sends a shockwave down his spine.

Hinata is asleep on his back, probably from having nowhere else to go with Atsumu’s lunky body collapsed over his lap. His arms are wrapped around his torso like a large pillow, and he snores lightly against his shoulder blades, and Atsumu thinks that even if his spine breaks, it’ll be worth it.

The hold around him is tense and strong, but he manages to twist himself over on his back without waking him. It would be better if he woke him, but for some reason he feels like he shouldn’t. Hinata needs his rest.

Atsumu lazily reaches down in a haze and grabs the extra blanket. He pulls it over them and closes his eyes to take a short nap before they have to hit the road again. Hinata can drive when they leave, he thinks. He’s tired, and his body is sore, and there won’t be any traffic for miles.

He smiles to himself thinking only about getting to be lazy for the next six hours. Really, he doesn’t even register the person sleeping soundly on his chest as if it’s anything out of the ordinary at all, but in the comfort of his own thoughts, he instinctively wraps his arms around Hinata and squeezes him affectionately like that’s a thing they do.

Hinata grumbles softly and shifts, and Atsumu’s eyes fly open as he  _ realizes.  _ He quickly snaps them back shut and pretends to be asleep as Hinata adjusts because at least if he wakes up like this and thinks that Atsumu doesn’t know the situation they’re in, he won’t realize that Atsumu was the person who put him there in the first place (kind of).

He waits for him to get up or roll off to the other side of the bed to sleep some more, but instead he settles back against his check close enough that a wild tuft of hair tickles his lips. Fingers gently trace down his sides as Hinata moves his hand down to his hip and exhales deep and content, and Atsumu’s world swells too big as Hinata falls back asleep like he’s supposed to be there.

He forces the stray thought away and focuses instead on trying to not react too much. He knows his heart is pounding, and he knows with their position, there’s no way Hinata doesn’t hear it. Even  _ Atsumu  _ can hear it. But Hinata doesn’t say anything if he does, and he stays like that either content to be held by him or too tired to realize that it’s Atsumu.

So he lets him stay, and after a while it starts to feel natural like this is how the two of them always sleep, and before he falls back asleep, overcome with exhaustion, Atsumu wonders if one day it could be.

Hinata’s weight lulls him into a deep sleep like warm milk, and the next thing he knows, he blinks his eyes to spots of sunlight pouring through the blinds. It beams down on his face, and he scrunches away from it before an angry buzzing sound stirs them both.

_ Oh right. _

Hinata lets out a small whine and crawls over him to get to his phone on the nightstand, elbowing him right in the gut, and Atsumu yelps out in pain before giving the back of Hinata’s leg a light smack. It’s so familiar and foreign at the same time that it makes him sick, and he has to turn his head away to keep Hinata from seeing the look of distress on his face.

“Hello,” he says, half asleep. “Hey mom. No, we’re fine. Yeah, he’s feeling better.”

Atsumu groans and would roll over in shame if he wasn’t still caged under the bottom half of Hinata’s stubborn body.

“How long do you think it’ll take,” Hinata asks over his own shoulder.

“Ah, I think we’ll get there this afternoon.”

“He said this afternoon.”

“Is she mad,” Atsumu asks quietly.

Hinata shakes his head. “Are you sure? We’ll probably make it in time. Alright.”

After a few minutes, Hinata ends the call with his mom and awkwardly crawls over to the unoccupied side of the bed.

“What’d she say?”

“They’re going to move my sister’s graduation dinner to after since we’ll be late.”

Atsumu groans and covers his face with the pillow. “She’s gonna hate me.”

“Actually I think she loves you more,” he sighs. “After I told her what happened, my family became Weather Channel aficionados, and there were like six tornadoes we dodged because we stopped last night.”

He isn’t sure if that’s true or just an exaggeration to make him feel better, but either way, it works. Atsumu sets the pillow down to the side and sits up. He wipes the sleepiness from his eyes while Hinata stretches loudly. Watching him move like a waking cat reminds him of the night before, and he feels a knot in his stomach he won’t be able to shake unless he says something even if he isn’t sure how to bring it up. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Hmm?” Hinata asks before a yawn. “Ah, yeah, did you?”

“Yeah,” his voice cracks. He clears his throat. “I was just curious since it was so late.”

“I’m fine,” he says quietly.

Atsumu squints his eyes, suspicious. “Yer gonna sleep the whole way there arentcha?”

Hinata turns to him and smiles slowly, looking even more catlike than before.

_ “Shoyo,”  _ he scolds.

He blinks at him sweetly and flops over onto the bed and pulls the blanket over himself.

“Perhaps, if you let me take a nap, I might be so inclined as to stay awake,” Hinata says.

“We’re gonna be even more late if you do,” he bargains, but when Hinata pats the space next to him like he wants him to join him, Atsumu’s cheeks burn hot, and he jumps off the bed and runs for the bathroom. “We should get goin’! Don’t wanna make yer mom wait! She’ll get worried! You can sleep in the car! I’ll drive!”

He slams the door behind him and presses his back up against it and wonders with regret when the last time was that it was properly disinfected.

He peels himself off of the paint that clings to his clothes and moves to the sink and splashes himself with water until the redness in his cheeks fades away. Why is Hinata teasing him like this? Why is he going out of his way to embarrass him?

Because he always does. 

Hinata never holds back when it comes to giving him a hard time because he’s his best friend, and that’s what best friends do. What best friends do  _ not _ do is wake up in each other’s arms and then hide in the bathroom like they just woke up from a bad hookup. Hinata could probably sense that he was freaking out for no reason and decided to lighten the mood in a way that was just as abnormal.

But was  _ that  _ really that abnormal? They’ve always been playful and touchy. Atsumu has no problem pulling Hinata onto his lap when Hinata’s in a bad mood, and Hinata often plays with his hair while he naps next to him on the sofa.

None of this is weird. This is how they’re friends, and right now Atsumu is being the weird one. Atsumu is taking every possible layer of normal between them and turning them upside down, and for what?

He looks at himself in the mirror, and it’s like his reflection looks back at him and mouths: you know why.

“‘Tsumu,” a wary voice says through the door. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m just poopin’!” Atsumu calls back, and then he almost screams at himself for somehow making it worse.

“Oh okay,” his voice trails off. “Don’t break anything.”

“I won’t,” he strains.

“You need some help?”

_ “No!” _

“Okay, okay!” Hinata shouts. “You ate a lot of sausage though.”

“I got it, thanks!” Atsumu slumps over the sinks once Hinata leaves him alone and lets out a quiet, pained sob. “He’s so frickin’ weird.”

_ No, you’re weird, _ Atsumu’s reflection seems to mouth to him. Atsumu scowls at himself, and his reflection seems to roll its eyes, and all Atsumu can do is groan.

“You sure you’re good?” Hinata says through the door.

“Yes,” he shrieks. “I’m fine!”

_ I’m fine.  _ He looks at himself again, and the person he sees looks back at him with so much pity and hurt that it’s like he  _ knows, _ and maybe so does Atsumu.

He eventually finds the resolve to stand back up and straighten himself out, and he marches outside of the hotel bathroom to face his problems. He expects to be hit in the gut with the sight of a sleepy Hinata still in bed which would effectively ruin his life, but instead he finds him padding around the hotel room barefoot in just a pair of basketball shorts and an old tshirt with an electric crop of hair that makes Atsumu snort.

Both of their suitcases are open on the bed, and Hinata is busy retrieving whatever got tossed aside in their  _ oh god get these wet socks off of me  _ strip session of distress the night before, and he looks like a kid at his last day of summer camp. It’s cute, and Atsumu doesn’t realize he’s staring.

“Hey, these are still wet, what do we do,” Hinata asks, holding up a pair of pants in each hand. “I don’t want to pack them and get everything else wet.”

Atsumu snaps out of it and approaches him before putting his hands on his hips. This isn’t something he’s ever had to think about before. Sure, for beach trips his mom used to bring a couple plastic grocery store bags to stuff their wet clothes in, but if he (or Hinata, he’s not the only grown up here) had been smarter, they would have hung everything up over the shower last night like his mom used to do with the swimsuits. He sucks his teeth and huffs. They did not plan this well.

“I–,” he starts, but he’s at a loss for words. If they stuff them in their bags, everything else will get wet. If he leaves them in the back of the car, his seats will get wet, and that’s  _ old _ old leather. That’s  _ Grease Lightning  _ leather. “Don’t know.”

Hinata hums and scrunches his face in thought until one eye closes like he’s solving the world’s most complicated equation, and Atsumu has to resist squeezing his cheek. Or kissing him.

_ “Oh god,”  _ he accidentally yells out loud in horror at himself, and Hinata startles.

“What?!”

Atsumu’s face burns hot, and he snatches the pants from Hinata before stuffing him in his own bag. “It’s fine! My clothes can get wet! I’m not going to the graduation dinner so I don’t need any!”

“You’re not going?” Hinata blinks.

Atsumu pauses. “I didn’t think I was.”

“Why not?”

“Those kinds’a things are family only,” he laughs awkwardly, brushing a piece of his own hair behind one of his ears. It’s a little brittle from the hotel water, but now’s not the time to be worrying about deep conditioning his dye job. “I’m just the ride.”

“But you’re,” Hinata starts with an angry scowl before snapping his mouth shut and shoving the pants in deeper. “We’ll just wash everything at mom’s when we get there.”

He zips Atsumu’s bag up with enough aggression and frustration that Atsumu has to blink several times in surprise until Hinata realizes how silly his little outburst was and the red creeps across his face, completely hiding his freckles.

“Well,” Atsumu huffs.

“Sorry,” Hinata says.

“It’s okay.”

“You’re going with us to the graduation dinner.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Sorry.”

Hinata nods and goes back to packing up their things. It’s not a lot, but they can’t hang around all morning because they’re not just late, they’re  _ late  _ late. Realistically, he isn’t sure they’ll make it on time, and Hinata moves like he thinks that too, but Hinata is doing him the favor of not saying so out loud, so Atsumu returns the favor by not apologizing.

It doesn’t take them long to pack back up, and after cramming into the bathroom to brush their teeth and wash and shave their faces, they’re ready to leave.

The air outside is brisk and damp, and the parking lot holds most of the storm water from the night before, but it’s so bright out that it’s almost blinding. He hates that they’re late, but he feels so much better like this. Hinata seems to feel better too because when he glances at him from the corner of his eye, Hinata is smiling up at the sun with his eyes closed.

He absorbs the warmth like a sunflower, and then they both head towards the car to put their luggage away in the trunk.

Atsumu drives, and Hinata falls into the passenger seat like he belongs there, and it makes him feel good like he’s his number one partner in crime. Two outlaws on the road. Just a man and his–.

A sharp rumble interrupts his thoughts, and he raises an eyebrow. “You hungry?”

Hinata smiles sheepishly and laughs. “Who me? Why would you say that?”

Atsumu raises an eyebrow and makes a show of glancing down at Hinata’s treacherous stomach. Hinata opens his mouth to refute, but his stomach beats him to the punch with a louder, angrier growl. “Hm.”

“It’s fine.”

“There’s a diner ‘cross the street.”

Hinata eyes him hopefully, and Atsumu doesn’t say anything as he shoves the keys into the ignition. He hooks his arm over the seat as he puts the car into reverse to leave and lightly gives the back of Hinata’s head a ruffle. They’re already late. What’s another 40 minutes?

Hinata bounces slightly like a kid, and Atsumu snorts. It seems he made the right decision.

Before they go back to the diner, they stop by the office so Atsumu can check them out. The clerk from before isn’t there and has been replaced with an elderly woman with thick framed glasses and a white izod that reminds him of one of the ladies at his grandma’s bingo club.  _ She _ is significantly more reasonable than the guy from before and shoves a bowl of caramels at him when he flashes her his million dollar Miya smile. 

Atsumu pockets two and leaves feeling a pep in his step as he goes.  _ What a nice lady. _

Hinata is slumped in his seat with his feet on the dash, and any other time Atsumu would have scolded him for getting his grubby little toe prints on his baby, but he’s in a good mood for some reason. It doesn’t make sense because he should feel antsy and annoyed and frustrated, but instead he feels a good kind of tired with no more threat of danger wrapped around his neck.

He gets in the car and holds his hand out to drop one of the candies into Hinata’s palm. Hinata makes a surprised noise before unwrapping it and squirreling it away into the pocket of his cheek.

“Is this,” he stops to slurp. “Breakfast?”

“God, no,” Atsumu scoffs. “Not when we’ve got a free coupon fer pancakes!”

“We don’t have pancakes.”

Atsumu wedges the remaining sliver of candy between his molars so that it doesn’t slip out when he blurts out a  _ what? _

Hinata blinks twice, and a moment passes before either of them can form a proper thought. He looks two sizes too small when he slides his coupon towards her with saucer eyes, and she looks just as distressed as he does. Atsumu can almost hear the  _ I don’t get paid enough for this _ and the  _ please don’t yell at me _ flashing across her face as she and Hinata engage in a delayed blinking war.

“Wha’do’ya mean you don’t have pancakes,” Atsumu manages to say, and time moves again as Hinata blinks away and turns his coupon over to make sure they got the right place. Of course they did. It’s not like the hotel shares a parking lot with  _ another  _ diner.

She looks at him like he just said something ridiculous, and for a minute there he wonders if he did, but then he sees the lightbulb go off as she realizes something that they didn’t. “Can I see that?”

Hinata hands her the coupon and she makes a face like it all makes sense. Atsumu wishes she’d go ahead and share the big secret, though...

_ “Ohhh,”  _ she says. “I’m so sorry about this, but this is for the old place that used to be here. I think the current owners bought it out a year ago and changed the menu, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh!” Atsumu and Hinata say at the same time.

“That’s fine,” Hinata beams, and Atsumu feels a pinch somewhere buried deep inside him. “We should have checked first.”

“I’m really sorry,” she insists. “I’m sorry, where did you get this?”

“The hotel next door,” Hinata explains. “Came with a haunted house tour one too.”

“A haunted what tour,” she blinks.

“Oh my god,” Atsumu groans into his hands. Hinata offers him an apologetic smile, and he’s never wanted to leave a town, err, county so bad in his life. 

She doesn’t quite get the silent conversation they’re having, but she offers to take the coupon to her manager to see if they can do something about the fake discounts from next door (or at least warn the other staff that there’s a rogue hotel clerk causing mayhem at the Motel 6).

Before they can tell her it’s fine, she leaves, coupon in hand, and all Atsumu can do is slump down into the booth while Hinata pulls out the menus from the stand.

“I’m sorry,” Atsumu says.

“You want an omelette this time,” he asks as a response. “You always get omelettes.”

“Shoyo…”

_ “It’s fine,”  _ he says, eyes glued to the menu. “If you beat yourself up anymore, you’re gonna bruise that pretty face of yours.”

Atsumu’s mouth hangs open, and Hinata throws his head back with a laugh that probably would have startled someone if they weren't the only customers inside. Atsumu knows he’s being made fun of, but he just can’t help himself. “You think my face is pretty?”

“I think you think your face is pretty,” he teases. 

“Now that’s just not fair.”

“I think it’s funny.”

“You wanna walk?”

Hinata sticks his tongue out, but by then the waitress comes back, and they have to pretend to be serious people.

“I’m so sorry about that,” she says again, and he wonders what she’s apologizing for this time. It’s not her fault they were given the pancake coupon packet of lies. “My manager said I can take your drinks off your ticket, though.”

“That’s fine,” they both say. It’s really not a big deal, but free orange juice is free orange juice.

“Do y’all know what you want or do you need another minute?”

Atsumu doesn’t mean to shift his gaze to Hinata as he says it, but the moment the  _ I think I do _ slips out, he feels his whole body burn, but neither Hinata nor the waitress seem to notice.

_ Get it together, asshole, you act like you’re in love with him. _

Atsumu’s whole body goes rigid and he yelps in the booth, startling them both.

_ “Ah-I  _ have to go wash my hands,” he says as he jumps up out of his seat and heads towards the far side of the diner. “Shoyo, order for me.”

“But I don’t know what you want,” Hinata calls out, stunned, but Atsumu has to get out of there. He doesn’t care what he orders because he’s just going to puke it back up at this rate. 

He rushes into the bathroom and flings himself over the sink, splashing water on his face until he soaks his collar.

_ “Oh my god,”  _ he gasps.  _ “I’m so screwed.” _

How could this happen  _ twice  _ in one day? One morning even! It hasn’t been more than an hour since the last time he ran away to the bathroom to hide, and what is he supposed to do now? Yell  _ sorry I have to poop _ and ruin some poor family’s breakfast? Absolutely not. If there’s one thing Atsumu is not is  _ chicken shit.  _ He will not hide from his problems, and he will not hide from Hinata.

Atsumu pulls himself together.  _ Again.  _ And leaves the bathroom with a damp collar and a damp mood as he takes his seat. 

Hinata is already halfway through his orange juice, and he’s folded up in the booth on his phone. It looks like he's texting someone—probably his mom—so Atsumu doesn’t bother him.

Instead he checks his own and sees a message from his brother waiting for him from last night.

**Osamu:** how’s the road, thelma

Atsumu holds his phone up and snaps a picture of Hinata hunched over like a goblin as he furiously types away and sends it to Osamu as an answer.

**Osamu:** wtf you aren’t there yet?

**Atsumu:** no lol

**Atsumu:** hinata’s house is in east jesus nowhere and we took a detour

**Osamu:** why in the world would you do that

**Atsumu:** bad storm couldn’t drive i’m traumatized 🥺 

**Osamu:** lmao whatever

**Osamu:** you guys okay?

**Atsumu:** yeah we had to get a room and the hotel dude gave us fake pancakes but you know it’s ok i’ve been scammed before

**Osamu:** ???????

“Oh you’re back,” Hinata says. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” he says and pockets his phone. “You tell yer mom we stopped?”

He shakes his head and pockets his own. “Kageyama.”

Atsumu feels his throat tighten. Kageyama is Hinata’s childhood best friend from his hometown, and even after Hinata moved away, they still managed to be stupid close. He’s only met him a few times, but the way Hinata talks about him is  _ reverent.  _ (Even if Atsumu can’t figure out what the big fuss is about). He guesses it would make sense for Hinata to update him since they talk every day, and it would make even more sense if Hinata has plans to see him when they get there…

“He asked how you’re doing,” Hinata offers.

“No he didn’t,” Atsumu laughs.

“You’re right, but he would have probably!”

Atsumu snorts. Kageyama doesn’t like him that much either, and frankly he doesn’t care. It’s not his approval he needs. 

He blinks. He doesn’t need anyone’s approval. Hinata can have any friends he wants, and it’s not like Atsumu has ever talked him into being a mule or anything.

“What’d you order,” Atsumu changes the subject. His morning has been stressful enough without the mention of the ‘yama in the room.

“I got you a Western omelette with extra toast for your stomach.”

“Oh,” he says, touched. There’s nothing wrong with his stomach, but that was so thoughtful, he feels his lip quiver.  _ Damn it.  _ He does this every time someone looks out for him, and it’s  _ stupid.  _ Hinata doesn’t pay him any mind and goes back to his juice. “What about for you?”

Hinata flashes a smile and winks, and it’s so cheesy he thinks he might have to kill him. “You’ll see.”

“What did you  _ do,”  _ he demands, but all Hinata does is cackle in delight, and it’s terrifying.

Hinata refuses to tell him anything, insisting that it’ll ruin the grandeur, and it only makes Atsumu more concerned. What could Hinata have  _ possibly  _ done?

Some time passes with Hinata acting downright devious, and then the waitress returns with a heaping tray of food balanced skillfully on her arm. Atsumu’s jaw drops, but he holds in the full breadth of his surprise until after she leaves.

“Shoyo…”

Hinata shuffles excitedly in his seat and rubs his hands together. “I’m about to take a trip to Breakfast Mountain!”

“What... the hell,” he croaks. “Is that?”

Hinata picks up his fork like a lecture pointing stick and starts from the bottom, explaining each and every layer. “Two buttermilk biscuits nestled under a bridge of sausage links, covered in hot and lucious gravy, a layer of crispy bacon, and a blanket of melted American cheese, and topped with diced tomatoes, onions, and pickled jalapeños with two sunny side up eggs all on a bed of crispy griddle fried hash browns.”

“I dunno if you could call any of that crispy,” Atsumu swallows, eyeing the absolute  _ monstrosity  _ on Hinata’s plate. He knows the guy can eat a lot but  _ good god.  _ The steam billows off of it like the top of a distant volcano and Atsumu is  _ frightened,  _ one for the fact that Hinata is about to sacrifice himself to Breakfast Mountain and because someone out there was actually bonkers enough to make this a thing.

Hinata shoves his fork down like he’s spearing a dragon and comes back up with a gravy coated wad of  _ everything  _ and shoves it into his mouth. “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“No thank you,” he winces. “I think I’d need a couple beers first.”

“Your loss,” he says with a full mouth.

Breakfast mountain proves to be too much for Hinata because his energy goes from a solid 11 to him propped up on his elbows with gravy on his chin and a look in his eyes that says  _ free me. _

Atsumu laughs and ends up slicing through the side facing him like a birthday cake and taking away a chunk of breakfast mountain so that Hinata can see a light at the end of the tunnel. He replaces what little he spared him from with two of his toast wedges like a peace offering to the god in the mountain, and Hinata takes them glady. 

“Yer gonna have a heart attack,” Atsumu mumbles after a while.

“I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

He rolls his eyes, and Hinata grins, and Atsumu thinks he might be the best person in the whole world, but that’s neither here nor there.

It doesn’t take them as long to finish as it did the night before now that they aren’t dragging anything out. Hinata covers their meal again because he has to pay for his breakfast mountain crimes, but Atsumu makes a note to cover the rest of the road snacks from now on. Even if they made the right decision, it was his fault they had two extra meals under their belts.

Speaking of meals under their belts, Atsumu is  _ stuffed.  _ That omelette was deceptive, and he feels like he’s about to pop. Hinata shamelessly pulls the waistband of his shorts over his rounded tummy and smiles in a faint daze like he’s been sedated.

“Look at you,” Atsumu fusses as they walk to the car.

Hinata blinks lazily at him and smiles. “What?”

He shakes his head and huffs through his nose. “Like a pardoned turkey at Thanksgiving.”

With a pleasant giggle Hinata swoops over to his side and bumps into his body with enough force that it almost knocks him off his feet. “Give me the keys, I’m driving.”

“I got it,” he half shoves him. “You just worry about not bringin’ the Return of Breakfast Mountain to my dashboard.”

“I’m not! Let me drive!”

“No!”

“There’s not gonna be another car on the road for hours,” Hinata reminds him. “Would you rather we switch off in Chicago?”

Atsumu considers it for a moment, and then pictures Hinata driving his  _ baby _ through city traffic and winces so hard he strains the muscles in his throat. “Alright you can drive.”

“Really?!”

He forces himself to look away at just how  _ big  _ Hinata’s eyes are. They look at him holding small galaxies, and like a blackhole, if feels like he’s going to get sucked right in. “Yeah, just until we get into traffic, and then we’re switchin’.”

“You got it, boss,” he cheers mid bounce. Atsumu can’t help himself from holding up the keys in the air so Hinata has to jump to get them, but why should he make it easy? It’s not his fault Hinata’s short. Hinata cheats by grabbing his side and giving it a firm squeeze, and Atsumu’s body folds in on itself fast enough for Hinata to snatch the keys from him victoriously.  _ “Jerk.” _

“Can’t wait to put on my headphones’n ignore ya for three hours,” Atsumu grumbles on his way to the passenger side.

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t hide them already.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You wanna bet?”

_ “Why?!” _

“Because this is super awesome ShoTsumu bonding time!”

“Yer the worst, Shoyo. Absolutely terrible.”

Atsumu ends up only using one of his earbuds, keeping his left ear open and free for Hinata, but they soon learn (terrifyingly) that Hinata  _ cannot  _ keep the car on the road while he’s talking so they soon fall into a comfortable silence (sort of).

He wraps himself up in a blanket with one of the pillows wedged against the passenger side window, and Hinata taps his nails against the steering wheel anxiously, fidgeting from being trapped in one place for so long. 

Atsumu gets it. His legs hurt, and his ass feels like it’s going to fall off, and Hinata has spent pretty much the whole trip trying his best not to crawl out of his own skin in secret because he would never complain at someone else’s expense. Now that he’s driving, though, the effects of being trapped in the car are beginning to show because he can’t do anything but  _ drive.  _

Atsumu slumps over, giving one of his hips a break, and his eyes grow heavy. He hates how tired he is, and he hates it for Hinata who doesn’t have the personality of someone who can let someone sleep, but Hinata doesn’t bother him. Instead he taps the wheel along with the radio and sits up too close because his feet don’t quite reach the pedals, and Atsumu falls asleep at some point in the middle of nowhere.

When he finally wakes, it’s at the mercy of a pothole, and he hears Hinata hiss as the back of the car hits the pavement, and Atsumu says a silent, sleepy prayer for his tailpipe.

He blinks his eyes open and settles on Hinata’s cheek. He’s looking through the windshield with a fury, but for some reason, Atsumu isn’t worried at all. Hinata has a license and learned on his mom’s minivan, but Atsumu taught him how to drive a stick (and this car) personally. They spent many hours together in a grocery store parking lot until Atsumu was sure he wouldn’t break anything shifting gears, and Hinata was already surprisingly good on the road as long as traffic wasn’t heavy so this isn’t the nightmare it could be.

Atsumu smiles fondly as Hinata frowns. If he should be worried, he doesn’t care and blames his own exhaustion for having his guard down.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he slips it out to make sure no one needs anything.

**Osamu:** text me at the rest stop 

**Atsumu:** hinata is driving what’s up

**Osamu:** he’s wHAT

**Atsumu:** bro my ass feels like i left it back in new mexico leave me alone

**Osamu:** ok but you would die before you’d let me drive the bAbY

**Atsumu:** that’s because you suck and i dont like you lol

**Osamu:** whatever

**Osamu:** loser

**Atsumu: 🤪**

**Osamu:** lol wait

**Osamu:** does that mean u like hinata

**Atsumu:** i no longer have a brother

**Atsumu:** i am alone

**Atsumu:** our parents favorite and only child

**Osamu:** “our”

**Atsumu:** shut up

**Osamu:** stupid

**Atsumu:** i’ll kill u 

**Atsumu:** what did you want

**Osamu:** mmmmnothing 👋 

**Atsumu:** ew were you checking on me? worrying about my wellbeing? showing concern?

**Osamu:** you’re such a pain in the ass i can’t believe we shared a womb

**Atsumu:** still waiting for proof

**Osamu:** you are so stupid

“Oh, you awake?”

Atsumu blinks up at Hinata. “Where are we?”

“Don’t know,” he says. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, ‘samu just wanted to see how we’re doin’. He says hi.”

“Tell him I said hey.”

Atsumu hums in agreement but doesn’t text him anything. He can wait. “Do you need me to take over?”

Hinata shakes his head. “GPS says we have two hours left before the next… something… so I should be good.”

“Yer not tired, Breakfast Mountain?”

“Don’t you know that carbs only make me stronger?”

“Scary,” he says, and Hinata grins to himself, but he seems fine so Atsumu doesn’t press anymore. It’s nice getting to stretch his legs a little and rest his eyes, and maybe, just maybe, Hinata doesn’t look so bad driving his car.

He naps a little more and wakes to the sound of the GPS telling Hinata where to go next, and that’s when they decide it’ll be a good idea to switch.

Neither of them are hungry enough to stop for lunch, but they find a clean looking gas station slash family rest stop (there’s a gift shop, Hinata informs him) for a quick bathroom break, a couple of to-go cups of store brand coffee, two bottles of water, and a bag of pork rinds because why the hell not. Atsumu pretends he doesn’t see the stuffed elephant next to the water bottles when he swipes his card, and he pretends not to see Hinata hug it to his chest when they get back to the car.

Without the storm, the rest of the trip isn’t nearly as awful as it has been, and Atsumu thinks that road trips could be their thing. Like, he could totally see himself ordering a couple of Parkas off of Amazon and heading up to Alaska or something for a week. He’s always wanted to see a glacier, and who better to see glaciers with than his number one?

“Hey, we should go to Alaska,” he says, turning to Hinata. Traffic is backed up from some road construction, and he has a few moments to take his hands off the wheel and stretch.

“What?”

“Yeah, we could take selfies with the penguins.”

Hinata twists his face up in thought and squints. “Are there penguins in Alaska?”

“If there’re icebergs, there have to be penguins,” he says like it’s obvious, and Hinata blinks. “Right?”

Hinata blinks again.

_ “Right?” _

“Oh look, traffic’s moving again,” Hinata says, pointing out front.

“Shoyo, tell me we get to see the penguins!”

“We can see the penguins,” he squeaks.

Atsumu relaxes and focuses his attention back on the road. “Okay, good.”

“At the zoo, maybe,” he mutters under his breath.

“That’s it,” he shouts. “Look it up! Right now!”

“No, that’s okay, I’m sure you’re right,” he laughs.

“Look it up!”

“You seem tense.”

“I’m a little stressed about the penguins, Shoyo,” he says. At this point he’s pretty sure he’s wrong. As soon as he said it out loud, doubt crept in, but now it’s too late. Now he’s an idiot, and there aren’t any penguins in Alaska, and all of his dreams have been crushed, and Hinata is giggling to himself because he  _ knows _ Atsumu’s an idiot.

“Should I drive?”

_ “No.” _

Hinata suppresses a laugh and turns to face away from him towards the passenger window, but Atsumu can  _ feel  _ him. He can feel him making fun of him, and if they weren’t just a few hours away, he would turn this car around right now. 

_ Wait. Just a few hours left? _

“When does the GPS say we’ll get there,” Atsumu asks.

“Around 6:30,” he says, back to being serious.

Atsumu presses his forehead against the steering wheel and sighs in relief. “Oh thank god.”

“I’m sorry,” he winces.

“No! I just– you hate it too, don’t you?”

Hinata shuffles in his seat, giving his own hips a break. “I mean, it’s not so bad.”

Atsumu doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to be the Whiner in Chief today so he pretends like his legs and back aren’t seconds away from exploding, but they’re almost there. He doesn’t care what anyone says, as soon as they get to Hinata’s mom’s house, he’s taking a few laps around the cul-de-sac to make up for this. His poor, pitiful ass cheeks.

“Thank you,” Hinata says.

Okay, it’s not that bad. He could do this a few more times if Hinata asks him too, but only if he asks nicely.

They stop again after a couple hours for another bathroom break, a drink refill, and to stretch their legs. They’re okay on gas, but Hinata insists that he put a few gallons in Atsumu’s tank “just in case.” It changes their estimated time of arrival to 7, but they aren’t too worried because the sun will still be up when they get there thanks to the time of year so it won’t feel like they’re barging into someone’s home on Christmas Eve. 

The thought of spending the holidays with Hinata’s family one day sends a weird flutter to Atsumu’s stomach, but he chases it away, not wanting to get ahead of himself. The only way that would happen is if Atsumu’s own family ever decided to say screw it and take off to somewhere far away without him for some good old fashioned R&R ( _ Osamu, I’ll kick your ass if you even think about going to Hawaii without me)  _ and if Hinata felt sorry for him and insisted on bringing him home like a stray dog.

And then there’s the other reason.

_ No, no, no! I’m not spending the holidays with Hinata’s family ever, I am his ride because of a last minute plane ticket emergency, his best friend, and the dude who makes all of his doctors’ appointments for him because the receptionists scare him, but that’s it! I am  _ not  _ the guy he brings home to momma! I’m not!  _

He sighs and rubs his eyes. 

“You good?” Hinata asks.

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Road exhaustion. I’m gonna sleep for two days, tell yer mom I said sorry.”

“She’ll be fine,” he laughs.

They continue back to the car from the gas station. Everything smells like wet asphalt, urine, and spilled diesel fuel, but god it sure is grounding. It’s like no matter where they go, it’s somehow exactly the same. Sure the trees change (now there are actually trees growing about and not just overgrown jade plants, cacti, and aloe), and people talk differently here (Atsumu will never get used to midwestern and New England accents no matter how much he tries), but every single gas station feels like a video game save point, and it makes him feel slightly dysphoric (but like, in a good way).

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, what’s up,” Hinata blinks. 

“Have you ever spent Christmas with Kageyama?”

He hums and looks off as he tries his best to remember, and Atsumu wonders if that’s something a person would easily forget, but then again it  _ is  _ Hinata. “Yeah, once.”

“Oh.”

“It was after his grandpa died,” he recalls. “We were like 10 or 11 or something, and his whole family wasn’t doing so well, and Kageyama took it the worst out of everyone so our moms thought it would make him feel better.”

“Oh,” he relaxes. Only an absolute asshole would feel threatened by that, and Atsumu might be a jerk sometimes, but he’s no asshole. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I don’t know if it worked,” he says more so to himself. “But it was kind of fun, you know? Like Natsu was a baby, and babies aren’t good at trying to take down Santa so it was kinda like having a brother or something, if that makes sense.”

Atsumu thinks about all of the schemes shared with Osamu. The way they used to stay up to catch Santa just to prove to their classmates that he wasn’t real, and the way they used to come up ways to terrorize the Easter Bunny (it was unnatural for a rabbit to lay chocolate eggs, okay) were fond memories, and he never really thought before that not everyone had someone like that. For Hinata he had to find that person, and then he had to find another one after moving far away.

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Oh yeah I bet you and Osamu did a lot of stuff together.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “One time we broke into our school at night to go swimmin’ with the guys we liked. Not bad fer a first date.”

“Ooh,” Hinata coos. “‘Tsumu’s first love. What a lucky guy.”

Atsumu’s cheeks flush slightly even though he knows Hinata didn’t mean anything by it. “I wouldn’t say that…”

“You gotta tell me all about it,” he says as he taps the roof of Atsumu’s car in excitement. His face is lit up like the sun behind him, setting his hair on fire in a bright ring, and it’s almost blinding. It’s breathtaking and warm, and it’s worth the headache of reaching back into his past just to indulge him a little.

“Maybe,” he half sings. 

Hinata rolls his eyes. “What else are we gonna talk about for two hours?”

Two hours. A nervous pulse works its way down Atsumu’s spine. He’s going to meet Hinata’s family in just two hours.  _ Two hours.  _ The most important people in Hinata’s life… 

He did not think this through.

The last two hours make the two days they spent traveling feel like two years, and Atsumu is so nervous he can’t stand it. Once they get into familiar territory, Hinata offers to take over, but he privately thinks if he doesn’t have this to distract him, the stress will take up permanent residence on his face.

The scenery is nice. It’s green, and the hills roll endlessly unlike the jagged terrain just north of where they live. It reminds him of home but not as humid as where he grew up.

Hinata sits up in his seat with too much excitement as he points out all the important places from where he grew up. He shows him the pizza joint with the slices big enough to wrap around your head (Atsumu senses a theme here), the field where Hinata went to his first baseball game, and the elementary school where he had his first kiss behind the big yellow slide on a dare.

All of it’s so painfully suburban and homey, all they’re missing is a big slice of apple pie, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and some fireworks, and none of it feels real, but this is Hinata’s  _ home _ . This is where he grew up and where he became the person he is today—the guy who prefers soccer over football, knows where every good taco stand is in their neighborhood, and has a giant tattoo of a crow nestled between his shoulder blades. He wonders if Hinata’s mom knows about that, and makes a note not to volunteer to tell her.

“And that’s where I bought my guitar,” he says, pointing at an old brick and mortar with a neon sign that says  _ Sonny’s _ above the door.

“You play guitar?”

“Nope!”

Atsumu looks over and shakes his head.

“It’s green!”

He snorts, and Hinata smiles that  _ way  _ again, and he doesn’t know how he’s made it this long without withering into the earth from it. It does look good on him, though, he has to admit. God, has anyone ever suited smiling as much as Hinata does? He can’t think of anyone, that’s for sure.

“We’re almost there,” he cheers. “I’m so excited!”

“Me too,” Atsumu agrees warmly, and he means it, even if he’s screaming on the inside with nerves.

Hinata’s mom’s house is at the end of the street, as he once mentioned. It’s painted white with two stories, a fenced in backyard, and a peacock mailbox, but honestly, it wouldn’t feel right if it  _ all  _ looked normal. 

Atsumu pulls up into the driveway and parks behind Hinata’s mom’s little Toyota, and their feet barely hit the concrete before she and Natsu are out in a full sprint to greet them.

Hinata gets sandwiched in a big, orange bear hug, and Atsumu makes a note to make fun of him later for being shorter than both his mom and his sister, but then before he knows it, Hinata’s mom is already on her way to hug his neck too.

“Thank you so much for getting him here in one piece,” she says before planting a big lipstick smudged kiss on his cheek like Atsumu’s one of her own kids, and he blushes like a fool from the burst of affection.

“It’s no problem,” he says shyly. “I hope we’re not too late.”

“No, not at all! Natsu and I were just finishing up dinner,” she smiles. “You’re just in time!”

The next few minutes are spent with Atsumu standing awkwardly next to his car with his hands in his pockets while the other three talk excitedly over each other as they try to cram two years worth of visits that never happened into one conversation. 

He can’t go inside yet, this is someone else’s house, and he can’t start unpacking the car right now, that would be rude, so he’s left watching them from the outside of their circle like some demon lurking in the shadows, and the bags under his eyes certainly can’t be helping. He thinks about the crimes the hotel water committed against his hair and winces. This is not the impression he meant to start off with, but Hinata is happy and Atsumu gets to  _ stand _ and dinner was promised. He couldn’t find anything to complain about even if he wanted to.

Hinata’s mom soon remembers they left food on the stove, and she and Natsu drag them inside to wash up for dinner. 

Hinata looks immediately at home as he flops down on the sofa and groans as his body sinks into the cushions. Much better than the car seat, he guesses.

Atsumu walks around to that side of the living room with him and awkwardly looks around, not sure where to sit. There is the sofa Hinata has claimed, an adjacent loveseat, and a cushiony maroon recliner that looks like something a grandpa would gravitate to, and the biggest problem he has right now is not which one he wants to sit on, but which one isn’t unofficially claimed.

You see there is an unspoken seat hierarchy in every household, and to be so bold as to threaten that is a big no no when meeting one’s friend’s parents for the first time, especially if that friend is the most important person in the whole world. Atsumu doesn’t dare.

“What are you doing?” Hinata says finally. His voice is thick like he’s seconds away from falling asleep, and based on his position, he might be.

“I dunno.”

Hinata snorts and reaches out for him. It’s a half swat, but his fingers graze Atsumu’s palm, and his hand closes around him like he’s some sort of stupid Venus Flytrap who thinks Hinata wanted to hold his hand.

He blinks up at him before yanking him down, and Atsumu falls onto the edge of the couch ungraciously, inches away from squashing Hinana beneath him.

“Sit, you’re making me nervous,” Hinata says.

“It’s  _ your _ house.”

“If it was  _ my _ apartment, you wouldn’t stand around like that.”

“Ya know what I mean.”

“I do,” he hums. Atsumu folds his hands together politely in his lap, propping himself up on the edge with one of his legs so he doesn’t fall off, and Hinata sees how tense he is and laughs. “Alright, alright, here.”

He pushes himself on his elbows to move, and Atsumu stops him. “Don’t get up.”

“You can’t sit like that.”

“I’m fine, Shoyo.”

He frowns and points to the other side, meaning for Atsumu to sit at his feet, which is a fair compromise, but when he moves, Hinata then twists around and drops his head on one of his thighs. “There.”

“Ah.”

“Goodnight,” he closes his eyes.

“Dinner’s almost done.”

“I can multitask.”

Atsumu snorts.  _ “Shoyo.” _

_ “‘Tsumu.” _

A moment passes as Hinata looks up at him from his spot on his lap. It’s meant to be an act of defiance, but the exhaustion leaves him looking content, and Atsumu once again gives in and lets him do what he wants.

He’s not like this with most people. He’s competitive and argumentative and too headstrong to be considered anything resembling complacent, but Hinata gets what he wants every single time, and what Hinata wants now is a nap.

Atsumu breaks away first and props himself up on the armrest with one arm and cards his fingers through Hinata’s hair with the other. It’s quiet except for the distant sounds of pots and pans and an analogue clock on the wall, and he hears Hinata take a deep breath. He’s tired. They both are, but he’s never seen Hinata  _ this _ tired or maybe so relaxed?

He rolls over and smushes his cheek against his leg, drawing his knees up to his chest, and Atsumu thinks that if Hinata had done that in the first place, he would have had plenty of room to sit with him in the first place. He’s not allowed to move though…

“Dinner’s ready!” Natsu calls out, and Atsumu winces because it means Hinata has to get up. Hinata stirs lazily and sits up with a big stretch with his arms above his head. He lets them fall on Atsumu and groans into his shoulder, hanging onto him without an ounce of energy left in his body.

“Already?”

Atsumu bonks their heads together, earning a pained  _ oof _ . “Time to get up.”

“I don’t wanna.”

_ “You?  _ Turnin’ down  _ dinner?” _

Hinata lifts up his head and blinks. “Oh yeah, food.”

“Not just any food,” Atsumu reminds him. “ _ Mom’s _ food.”

“Oh yeah,” his eyes widen. “You’re gonna love it, my mom’s food is the best!”

“Not when it’s cold,” a voice chimes in impatiently from the kitchen, and that’s their cue to move before they get scolded before they even have a chance to bring their bags in.

Sitting at a kitchen table to share a meal, like a real meal, with family feels like a foreign concept after living away from home for so long. Kitchen tables at his age are for midnight bowls of cereal and places to dump his mail, but sitting there with the Hinatas with a big spread of food makes him want to be on his best behavior. 

Everything smells so good, he’s almost afraid to eat any of it because it feels  _ wrong  _ like he isn’t worthy of being there, but then Hinata’s mom starts shoveling food onto his plate and doting on him, and well, who is he to say no?

The conversation develops naturally, and this time he’s a part of it too. Hinata goes out of his way to include him, and eventually even Natsu, who’s still understandably shy around him, starts asking him questions led by her mom, but then it starts to feel like an interview.  _ Where are you from? Do you work? Do you have any siblings? Where did you go to college? Are you single?  _

“Mom,” Hinata whines. “ _ Please _ .”

“I’m just trying to get to know your friend,” she says sweetly with the kind of loaded saccharine that Atsumu knows to be afraid of.

“I don’t mind,” he offers. “Shoyo slept the whole way here, so it feels good to talk.”

“I did not!”

“Don’t stick your tongue out at the table,” his mom says, but there’s no bite to it.

“I did  _ not _ sleep the whole time,” he repeats, and Atsumu scrunches his nose. “Just some of it.”

“You have a nice car,” she says, turning to Atsumu. “Is it yours?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“My first boyfriend had a car like that,” she sighs dreamily.

“Mom!”

Atsumu feels himself get warm for some reason and glances at Hinata who is looking down at his plate with a feverish flush to his cheeks, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table. He isn’t sure why Hinata is so embarrassed, Atsumu doesn’t mind hearing about his mom’s life.

She smiles to herself and turns to Natsu who has mostly been quietly observing this whole time. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, kinda,” she says. “It doesn’t really feel like it’s happening.”

The conversation shifts to Natsu’s admittance into her second choice school (she got into her first, but the second had a scholarship she couldn’t pass up), and Hinata takes the opportunity to brag about how cool and smart his little sister is.

“She’s going to be a pharmacist,” he says proudly.

“I haven’t decided yet, actually,” she says, glancing carefully at her mom.

“What, I thought–,” Hinata starts, but Atsumu cuts him off, sensing danger.

“That’s okay,” he drawls warmly. “I think I switched my major six times before somethin’ stuck.”

“I didn’t know that,” Hinata blinks.

“Mhm. They told me to just stay general until I figured it out, but I didn’t like that I couldn’t take the classes, and like, how else are you supposed to know what yer good at?”

“Exactly,” she says with a burst of excitement, and there’s no hiding who she’s related to at all. “They sent me the guide book with all the courses, and like I can’t take Reparative Therapy unless I go into Sports Medicine, I can’t take Aviation Technology unless I go into like diesel mechanics or something, and I’m not allowed to weld anything if I major in Liberal Arts? How  _ am _ I supposed to know what I’m good at?”

“Why are you trying to weld things,” Hinata asks.

“In case I might be good at it.”

“I think she’s gotta point,” Atsumu agrees with a nod. There really is absolutely no denying who she’s related to at all.

“What would you do if someone told you you couldn’t weld things,” Natsu challenges her brother, and Hinata blinks. “See.”

“Okay, but consider this,” he starts.

“What?”

“Pharmacists get to wear a lab coat.”

Natsu’s eyes go wide as she looks to her mom who exhales slowly.

“Let me guess,” their mom says.

“Mom, we have to come up with a new plan,” she says urgently. “I graduate  _ tomorrow.” _

Dinner wraps up not long after with Natsu distressed that she can’t weld in a lab coat, and Hinata straining himself to think of a career that lets her have both and coming up short. Atsumu had no idea the can of worms he was about to open when he encouraged this, but he should have  _ known.  _ Hinata is his number one. He has experience with these kinds of snowballs, and yet… and yet…

“It’s getting late,” Hinata’s mom frowns, and she pushes herself up from the table.

“Ah,” Atsumu says, realizing dinner is over. “Let me help you clean up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she waves him off. “You’re a guest here.”

“My mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t at least wash the dishes,” he tries. “I don’t know where anythin’ goes though…”

She smiles brightly. “You wash, and I’ll put them up then.”

Hinata stands awkwardly near the table. It’s his house, but he looks the most out of place, and Atsumu isn’t sure how his mom feels about people laughing at her son so he bites his lip to keep it in, but she seems to notice it too.

“Shoyo, would you mind getting the spare room ready,” his mom says, and Hinata breathes a visible sigh of relief.

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“There’s a few extra blankets in the closet off of the laundry room.”

“Got it.” Hinata spins on his heel to leave, and Atsumu is left alone with Hinata’s mom, a mountain of dishes, and the fear of someone who  _ really  _ cannot afford to screw up even if he can’t put his finger on why he feels so intensely about that.

Atsumu pushes up his sleeves and arranges the dishes in the sink basin before filling it up with hot water. They don’t have a dishwasher, and as someone who knows his pizza guy on a first name basis, the feeling of sinking his hands into the sudsy unknown is understandably unfamiliar, but he has his brave face down to a science. 

He already had a good impression of her, but now that they’re alone, Atsumu can’t help but think how  _ nice  _ Hinata’s mom is. His whole family is nice, and if it were any other group of people, Atsumu might feel alarmed, but Hinata is the kind of guy who is always trying to find a way to help someone or brighten their day. He’s driven but unselfish, kind almost to a fault, and so bubbly that he generates his own energy so it should have come to no surprise that his own sister and mom would be people Atsumu likes being around too.

Doing the dishes isn’t something he should be so happy about, but there’s this constant surge of electricity beaming through him that makes him excited to do anything around anyone from this family, and it completely overrides his nerves. 

“Thank ya for dinner,” he manages as he works away a stubborn grit on the bottom of one of the pans.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she says warmly. She talks like Atsumu is Hinata’s school friend who got to stay the night after practice, but he’s not mad about it. Come to think of it, most of his sleepovers when he was a kid happened at his own house because he and Osamu came as a set. He guesses their parents felt bad about unleashing them on people. “Did you have enough?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he assures her.

“Thank you for coming so far on such a short notice,” she says in return. “We watched the weather last night…”

“Ah, I’m sorry we weren’t able to get here this mornin’.”

“No, no, I’m glad you stopped. You did the right thing.”

He forces a smile, but he can’t help but feel like he failed both Hinata and his family. That was literally his  _ only  _ job, and he couldn’t do it. He hums and nods and goes back to that pan he just can’t get clean. “I think if it was still bright out, it woulda been okay.”

“I’m just happy you both made it safely,” she offers.

The mood shift doesn’t last long because Atsumu takes the opportunity to tell her about his and Hinata’s trip adventures which she’s surprisingly delighted to hear about.

“I can’t believe he drove here, he hates driving,” she says in amazement. “He only got his license to help me with picking up Natsu.”

“He’s great,” he says. “Doesn’t do traffic yet, but we’ll get there.”

“And that’s an older car…”

“Ah yeah, I taught him how to drive a manual,” he says. “He still makes rocket noises sometimes, but you get used to it.”

She snorts and giggles happily, just as bright as her son, and it makes Atsumu kind of miss him a little. Not like they didn’t just spend  _ two days  _ trapped in a car together.

“I’m glad he has a friend like you,” she says. “I was so worried when he moved off on his own, but now that I know someone’s taking care of him, I feel a little better.”

“He’s like havin’ my own personal battery pack, and he’s the most supportive person I’ve ever met, so I think my mom would probably say the same thing.”

“That’s so sweet.”

Atsumu swallows and feels himself turn pink. Perhaps, gushing about Hinata to Hinata’s mom isn’t the most normal thing he could do, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it. He’s almost finished so he can hide soon so that he doesn’t look  _ that  _ passionate about his best friend. 

She comes up next to him and takes the last plate in the drying rack and wipes it down with a rag. She sighs and shakes her head. “What’s a mother gotta do to get you as a son in law.”

Atsumu laughs sharply, and it comes out like a quack, and he flushes hard, a full solid lobster on the scale.

“That’s up to Shoyo,” he blurts out without thinking, and she looks at him in shock.

_ Uh oh. _

There are things, many ridiculous things, Atsumu has said out loud before. Atsumu has feasted, on multiple occasions, on his own foot before, but he has never, ever,  _ ever _ , let himself even casually bring up the idea of him and Hinata ever being a thing. Osamu may have entertained the idea before because he’s  _ evil  _ and he knows everything, but this is so forbidden that he feels like any second now, someone is going to push a button and his head is going to explode.

“I mean,” he chokes.

She inhales sharply and turns her back to him, moving towards the cabinet with the plate gripped tightly in her hand. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“You think… what’s… a good idea?”

_ No, shut up, you’re manifesting danger. Don’t get your hopes up, idiot. _

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. This has to be awkward for both of them, right?  _ Hey, you think I can date your son? “Hey, you think you can date my son?” Oh god, I’m an idiot. This is so embarrassing, please kick me out. I can and  _ will _ sleep in my car. _

“You two seem happy,” she says. ”That’s all.”

“Oh,” he swallows. “I don’t know if he would be okay with it so it’s not something we’ve ever talked about.”

“Well you know, I know everything,” she jokes, and he hums in agreement, wiping his hands off on the drying towel, finally finished with the dishes. “And I know my kids, and Shoyo… is happy.”

He hangs his head and nods, unable to look at her, but he feels like his heart is going to explode.  _ My son looks happy  _ might be the greatest thing anyone has ever said to him because he wants to interpret that to mean  _ you make him happy  _ so much, he can’t stand it. His hands shake as he shoves them in his pockets, and he snaps his head up with determination. There isn’t anything he can say, but he doesn’t have to. This is the greenlight he didn’t know he needed, even if he isn’t ready to go to the start line yet. 

It only took two minutes after meeting to fall in love with him and however long they’ve been friends to finally let himself acknowledge it, so based on those loose calculations, he’ll be ready to actually bring it up to him in about seventeen years. That should be enough time to figure things out.

Now that the kitchen’s clean, he’s free to go unpack the car. He walks out digging through his pockets for his keys, and when he finally pats something that feels familiar, he looks up and sees Hinata standing in the hall with a bundle of wadded up sheets in his arms and the worst expression on his face Atsumu’s ever seen. Horror.

“Shoyo? You good?”

Hinata blinks back at him, his mouth shut tight, his eyes wide, and his cheeks hollowed out. 

_ Fuck. He heard. _

Atsumu’s body heats up fast, and he starts to sweat, and his chest tightens, and it all happens so fast that he almost has to grab onto the door frame to keep himself steady. His legs turn to lead beneath him, and all that stands between him and running and screaming is Hinata himself planted firmly in the hallway.

“‘Tsumu?”

He inhales sharply and pushes past him. “I gotta go unpack the car.”

Except Hinata’s mom’s house is a maze, and instead of walking straight to the living room, taking a left, and heading out the front door, he takes a wild right towards what looks like a door and ends up somewhere else he doesn’t recognize.

It’s dark out now except for the security light posted towards the back so his eyes don’t have long before they adjust. He’s standing lost on a mosaic patio, and he sees a swingset a few feet away and a small garden that looks like it's more for food than for decoration. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out he ended up in their backyard, but it did take an idiot to get him there.

He can’t go back in. He can probably just go around the side if there’s a gate, sneak over to his car, get in the car, back out of the driveway, and drive to Canada before anyone notices.

“I’m so stupid,” he whines quietly, and his legs carry hin through molasses to the swingset. He plops down and lets himself rock pathetically before forcing himself to come to a stop.

He  _ can’t _ go back in there. Hinata heard him, and he can’t go back into that house. Not like this. He’s not here for that. He’s not here because he ever expected anything from him. He has always been happy with their friendship, and he always assumed he’d get over his feelings eventually so bringing it up would have been a waste of time.

But now they’re here on the surface, and for the first time, they  _ hurt.  _ These feelings that he’s had for so long that have been in a way a small comfort because they meant that despite what so many people have said about him before, he  _ can _ feel something. It’s a secret that kept him warm—a small, protective ache inside of him—and he just wants to wake up again back at the hotel for a do over just to make this go away.

He bites back a panicked tear and pulls out his phone to pull himself together. His thumb moves towards instagram and twitter, but it lands on his messages and the next thing he knows, he’s seeking  _ help  _ help.

**Atsumu:** i need help

**Shinsuke:** Who’s this?

**Atsumu:** KITA 😭 

**Shinsuke:** Do you need money? Are you in the hospital?

**Atsumu:** who taught you how to joke i don’t like it

**Atsumu:** no and i wish

**Shinsuke:** Please explain.

**Atsumu:** you know shoyo 

**Shinsuke:** The orange haired guy in your profile picture?

**Atsumu:** yeah

**Shinsuke:** I have heard of him, yes.

**Shinsuke:** Is he in the hospital?

**Atsumu:** no no no he’s fine I’m the one who needs help

**Shinsuke:** Go on...

**Atsumu:** so i was talking to his mom and tldr she was like u should date my son <3 and i was like HAHAHA I WISH and he heard me and now i gotta go die

**Atsumu:** basically

**Shinsuke:** Atsumu can I ask you a question?

**Atsumu:** yeah

**Shinsuke:** How long has it been since your last serious relationship?

**Atsumu:** ….

**Shinsuke:** Oh dear.

**Atsumu:** this aint about that tho that was a long time ago don’t even worry about it but that’s not the problem here

**Shinsuke:** The what’s the problem?

**Atsumu:** he doesn’t look at me like that and like aha if i lose him over this i’m never gonna forgive myself 

**Shinsuke:** That’s not going to happen, and you know it.

**Atsumu:** it could happen

**Shinsuke:** Just look at your profile picture and go talk to your friend.

**Shinsuke:** You don’t need my help, I promise.

Atsumu doesn’t want to look. His stomach churns something awful, and if he has to see them being happy and normal with how things were before he blew it, he thinks he might throw up, but Kita always knows what he’s talking about even if Atsumu never wants to admit it.

He looks, and it hurts just as much as he thought it would. His own image stares into the camera with his tongue out, and Hinata’s arms are thrown around his neck with their cheeks squeezed together and the brightest, happiest smile Atsumu has ever seen. Their faces are slightly sunburned, and the sun blazes hot behind them just over the horizon. 

It was Hinata’s birthday. They went to the beach with a couple of their friends to celebrate, and both of them were a few beers in. They took the photo on the way down the boardwalk to a place that had the  _ best  _ all you can eat shrimp and crab legs, and Atsumu always promises that they’ll go back, but until now they’ve both been too busy.

He supposes that Hinata will stop asking now, and it’s his fault for not taking him back sooner. All of this is his fault.

“There you are.”

He startles and almost drops his phone. Hinata stands barefoot on the concrete. There’s just a small light by the door not doing much more than attracting moths, but he knows him enough to pick out his outline anywhere.

“Where’d you go,” Hinata asks when Atsumu doesn’t answer. He crosses the grass towards him, and all Atsumu can do is grip the chains on the swing to keep himself from jerking away. “I couldn’t find you.”

“I was here,” he swallowed. “I got confused and took the wrong door.”

“So you decided to swing?”

“Mhm.”

Hinata hums and nods. He cracks his knuckles nervously and shuffles his feet in the grass. “Okay.”

“Sorry,” he says, and he’s not sure for what. Sorry for hiding? Sorry for not coming back in? Sorry you overheard? Sorry for saying anything? Sorry for having feelings? There are just so many things to be sorry about that one word will have to cover them all.

Hinata looks at him and frowns. He hates when he frowns, but then he tilts his head in that  _ way,  _ and Atsumu feels like he might break.

He takes those last two steps and lifts his legs like he’s climbing into a tub, and Atsumu realizes he means to straddle him on the swing. He sits on his lap and lifts his legs slightly, digging into Atsumu’s sides so that they both can fit, and he wraps his arms tightly around Atsumu’s neck to keep himself balanced.

“I don’t think this thing can hold us both,” Atsumu mumbles into his shoulder.

“That’s okay, you’ll break my fall.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!”

Hinata laughs and squeezes him, and it feels a little better. Not much, but a little. Atsumu wants to squeeze him back, but if he lets go, they won’t stand a chance at staying in the air, so he closes his eyes instead and digs his head deeper into his shoulder. He smells like bad hotel, but it’s nice. Kind of reminds him that today happened and the last hour didn’t exist in a different universe where they can’t just sit like this.

They fall into a silence that Atsumu can’t decide if he would call comfortable or awkward. He can practically hear Kita and Osamu telling him to  _ open yer big yap and ask him _ , but maybe he doesn’t want to know the answer. Maybe he needs a few more years of silence before he can ask, but the other part of him has to say  _ something _ . Maybe just sorry again.

“That’s not why I drove you out here,” Atsumu says finally, shattering that fragile shell of silence around them, and Hinata stiffens in his arms.

“I know.”

“Okay,” he swallows.

A few more moments pass before Hinata takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t know if he’s relieved that Hinata acknowledged it or that he doesn’t have to say more out loud before he gets a chance to organize his thoughts, but it’s disappointing in a way. Even if it sucks and is scary and stressful and awful, it would be nice if it was something Hinata wanted to talk about, but it’s not and that’s okay.

The quiet holds them in place for a while. Hinata is heavy on his legs, but it’s a feeling he can focus on, and then the stress becomes a little easier to handle. Things feel a little more normal, and the world doesn’t come to an end. It’s okay. They’re okay.

It isn’t long though before the mosquitos drive them back inside. Hinata shows him the  _ right _ way to the car, and they get their luggage out without a word. He remembers to pop the trunk this time, and it reminds him that his things are probably souring inside from the wet clothes they left in his bag all day. 

On their way in, Hinata’s mom tells them that they’re going to have a movie night and asks if they want to join them, and of course they say yes. What else are they going to do all night? Sit in their rooms on their phones in someone else’s house while they watch a movie downstairs? Of course not.

They carry the luggage up to the second floor, careful not to trip over each other, and Hinata points him towards the guest room across from Natsu’s. He goes in by himself and places his suitcase down between the bed and a big plastic bin of fabric. There are some weights shoved in the corner, a sewing machine, a doll house, and it smells like old furniture. Nine out of ten, much better than the hotel from last night.

He then follows Hinata back downstairs for the movie. They don’t talk, but what bothers him more is that Hinata doesn’t look at him either. They’re not just pretending, they’re ignoring, and it sucks, but he thinks of the alternative and swallows it down.

The  _ I just don’t think of you like that _ may be obvious, but it’s not something he wants to hear. Atsumu has his pride, after all. He knows he’s a catch, but Hinata throwing him back might just crush him for good.

When they get to the living room, he sees that the loveseat has already been claimed by Natsu, and Hinata’s mom is folded up in the recliner comfortably, leaving him and Hinata the sofa. 

_ Oh no. _

Hinata sits on the side closest to the television, and Atsumu takes the other side. There’s a cushion and then some between them, and Hinata is smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. No one else seems to notice.

They scroll through the channels and stop on “The Other Woman.” It’s a comedy, and even if he doesn’t feel like laughing, Atsumu’s glad they didn’t want to watch The fucking Notebook or something else meant to punch him right in the throat.

The tension that only exists on the couch simmers off as they both have something else to focus on. Eventually he does laugh, and Hinata twists around until his legs are behind him, and his toes press against one of Atsumu’s thighs. It’s just a habit. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it’s usually something Atsumu  _ hates  _ because his feet are always so cold and it grosses him out, but a small part of him is able to relax.

He glances over at Hinata. He’s propped up on the arm rest, and light from the television flashes across his face. He looks  _ tired.  _ He looks as tired as Atsumu probably does, and that’s what hurts the most.

_ He seems happy with you. _

_ Not anymore. _

That’s okay. Atsumu isn’t happy with himself anymore either.

The movie ends, and the four of them go their separate ways to go to bed. Atsumu washes his face and brushes his teeth in the upstairs bathroom, putting off the shower for after he gets his clothes washed and dried. 

He returns to his room, pulls off his shirt, and drops it on his suitcase, and switches to a pair of sweatpants that somehow survived the trip without getting soaked before getting into bed.

The sheets are uncomfortably cold against his skin, and he’s never really been able to fall asleep easily in an unfamiliar place, but it feels safe there. The house is quiet, and the room is filled with too many things, and in a way it compresses him enough that he can’t focus, and as long as he can’t focus, he can’t  _ think.  _

He relishes the disorientation as he stares up at the ceiling, and too much time passes because he feels himself sink. He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but they flutter open as soon as the door swings open and shuts with a jarring thud.

The  _ where am I, who’s there _ doesn’t have a chance to stick before Hinata makes a frustrated noise and stomps towards him.

“I changed my mind, we have to talk about it,” he huffs.

Atsumu moves to sit up, but Hinata is faster. He lifts the blanket up, letting all the warm air out and the cold room air in, and slides in next to him. His arms drop to his sides with a fury, and Atsumu is in  _ trouble.  _ This is angry, stompy Hinata. This is  _ get out of the way, there’s a bull loose  _ Hinata, and Atsumu knows better than to try to throw himself in front of it.

Kind of.

“Okay,” he swallows. “What’s up?

Hinata blinks away a  _ what do you mean ‘what’s up’,  _ and gets right into it. “I’m mad at you.”

Atsumu inhales sharply and braces himself. Of course Hinata’s pissed. His best friend’s a creep. “I know, I’m sorry I–.”

“How could you talk to my mom about this before you talked to me,” he blurts out. “Like Osamu I get because he’s the other Miya, but my mom?! What, do you, mom, and Natsu have a group chat I don’t know about? Are you lunch buddies? Have you come here without me? You know what, don’t answer that. If I find out you and my mom hung out without me and talked about all your super cool secrets together because you’re besties now, I don’t know if I can take it.”

“It’s not my fault,” he says, ignoring Hinata’s silly little rant. “She brought it up.”

Hinata turns towards him and frowns, and Atsumu quickly finds an interesting pattern on the ceiling to stare at. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he drawls. “We were talkin’ ‘bout you because what else are we gonna talk about and she mentioned it and it just slipped out.”

“Yeah, but like, you told my  _ mom… _ before  _ me… _ ”

“And I said I didn’t mean to.”

Hinata takes a breath that makes Atsumu take one too, and the change of rhythm screws with his already altered heart rate.

“When were you going to tell  _ me _ , then?”

He doesn’t sound angry anymore as much as he sounds hurt, and that’s much, much worse. That’s the opposite of what he wants for him.

“I wasn’t,” he says honestly after a pause. There isn’t a point in lying to him about it. He could easily say  _ eventually,  _ but really he’s been banking this whole time on the hope that he’ll eventually move on without having to. Seems that didn’t work out.

Hinata doesn’t say anything. The silence rattles him more than it would have if Hinata had jumped on top of him and started beating him over the head with one of the throw pillows. He looks over, and Hinata is  _ glaring  _ at him. There’s so much anger there that it’s hard to breathe.

“What,” Atsumu says.

“I’m mad at you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then don’t ask.”

Atsumu looks at him and blinks. Hinata has never snapped at him before, but he supposes in a way he deserves it.

“I wasn’t tryna upset you,” Atsumu says. He closes his eyes and digs his palms into his sockets to see if that does anything for him. It doesn’t. “What was I supposed to say, anyway?”

Hinata exhales deeply through his nose. “I don’t know.”

“See?”

“Okay, you can have that one,” he concedes. “But like, I didn’t know we were keeping secrets from each other. It feels… weird.”

Atsumu swallows. “I don’t keep secrets from you, really. You know more about me than my doctor does, but what was I supposed to say?  _ Hey, Shoyo, I think I’m in love with ya, wanna go get some wings?  _ You don’t come back from that.”

He waits for the scolding that never comes. He braves a look, taking his hands off his face and opening one of his eyes to see Hinata staring at him in the dark. 

“What,” he swallows again, his mouth too dry from nerves.

Hinata’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted slightly in surprise, and it’s  _ cute.  _ His mouth looks soft, and Atsumu has the weirdest urge to reach out and pinch his bottom lip. 

“What did you say?”

“I said you don’t come back from that.”

Hinata’s face scrunches up in agony, and he bends over until his forehead hits Atsumu’s shoulder.

_ “No,”  _ he groans. He thunks his head against him again like he’s smacking it against a wall.  _ “Before that.” _

“What?” Atsumu turns his head down towards him and frowns. Hinata looks up at him carefully, eyes glued to his, and he bucks up quickly to plant a kiss Atsumu never saw coming.

And he misses.

“Oof,” Hinata says, the top of his head hitting the headboard as his nose grazes Atsumu’s cheek.

Atsumu snorts and holds back a smile. His heart may be close to bursting out of his chest, but Hinata is an  _ idiot,  _ and he’s doing everything he can to keep from cackling until he falls to the floor _.  _ “What was that?”

“... nothing…”

“Did you just try to kiss me?”

_ “No,” _ he says too fast.

“Yes you did.”

“No I did  _ not _ ,” Hinata insists, eyes shifting away suspiciously. “Kiss you? Gross.”

“Gross?!” Atsumu gasps. He sits up on his elbow and looks down at Hinata who is scrunched up beneath him, the blanket drawn up to his chin in shame. “I’ma  _ ten,  _ dude.”

“Yeah? Who says!”

“Everybody!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Prove it!”

Hinata’s challenge does something to his brain. It reaches in and squeezes that secret competitive gland that made him spend half his life wanting to be better than everyone else, and now he wants to be  _ better.  _ Better than what? He has no idea, but he wants to prove  _ something  _ to Hinata, so he leans down until he catches his mouth with his like that’s the only way he knows how.

Hinata inhales sharply, but he doesn’t push him off or fight him. He second guesses himself for a moment because  _ what the hell am I doing _ and pulls back slightly, but Hinata chases him, and he dives in, leaving nothing else to chance.

The kiss is slow and hungry, and he knows they aren’t quiet. Each breath is sharp and piercing, but he has to keep filling his lungs with him to keep from passing out.

Hinata threads his fingers through Atsumu’s dry terrible hotel water hair, and Atsumu in return cups his jaw and the side of his neck with one hand and guides him.

“How was that,” he murmurs against his mouth.

“Ten,” he husks, lifting himself up to bridge the small gap Atsumu made, and Atsumu drinks him in—small, and eager, and perfect. “Ten, okay, you win.”

This does feel like a victory, and he can’t help but smile even through the flurry of pecks that trace across the line of his mouth. Hinata’s hands slide down to the base of his neck and pause. He pats around, and Atsumu realizes he’s reaching for a collar that isn’t there.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly.

Hinata swears under his breath and swallows. “Sorry, I wanted to–.”

Atsumu reaches up and presses Hinata’s hand to his collarbone before sliding it to his chest. He feels his breath hitch as his palm presses flat against his skin, but then Atsumu twists their fingers together and holds their hands down against the mattress. “Nuh uh.”

“You just said–,” Hinata pouts, and Atsumu kisses him again and smiles too brightly against his mouth. He feels him wiggle stubbornly beneath him, and it’s so painfully intoxicating. He wishes he didn’t have to do this.

“You have to get up in the mornin’,” he whispers. “Later.”

“It’s fine,” he whispers back, sharply.

_ “Later.” _

Hinata whines and steals one more kiss. “You suck.”

“I know.”

“You said you loved me, and now you’re casting me away.”

“I think bein’ concerned about yer wellbein’ should be proof enough.”

_ “I thank bein’ cunsurned about yer wellbein’ shud be proooof enuff,”  _ Hinata repeats.

Atsumu gapes. “Are you makin’ fun of me right now?”

_ “Awre yew makin’ fuuhhhna may raight naow?” _

Atsumu lets go of Hinata’s hand and pokes his finger in his chest. “I did not come here to be bullied.”

_ “Ah did nawt cuhm here tew be bull-led.” _

“Shut up,” he huffs.

“Make me,” Hinata flashes a smile, and Atsumu pauses.

“I’m not falling for that.”

“You mean you’re not falling for that  _ again.” _

Atsumu blinks, and Hinata giggles cutely, pleased with himself, and he wants to be mad at him, but he can’t. He leans down and retrieves one last, quick kiss, and pulls away before Hinata can grab him for more. “Bed time.”

_ “Aww,”  _ he whines.

Atsumu plops down next to him and slings his arm over his chest to hold Hinata down and closes his eyes. “Nighty night, Shoyo.”

The room falls quiet, and even though Atsumu doesn’t think he can really fall asleep any time soon, he listens to Hinata’s breathing to see if he can tell when he dozes off. He wants to look at his pretty face and steal more kisses, but he behaves himself. Hinata has to be up in a few hours to help his sister get ready, and after the trip they’ve had, he doesn’t want to send him off to the ceremony exhausted.

After a while, though, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s being stared at. He opens his eyes to see Hinata looking at him with a sleepy, lidded gaze like he’s forcing himself to stay awake. Before he can scold him, Hinata smiles softly and reaches up to the hand on his chest and gives it a squeeze.

His eyes blink closed for a moment, but he forces them back open, and it’s endearing how determined he is to not fall asleep.

“‘Tsumu,” he mumbles.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t kiss nobody but me,” he drawls, half asleep, and Atsumu knows he’s making fun of his voice again. He  _ knows _ Hinata is teasing him, but he absolutely cannot find it within him to see past the full fireworks, lights, and laser show happening inside his chest. 

“I won’t,” he promises quietly, a smile forcing itself upon his face as Hinata drifts off to sleep. 

He doesn’t know if he could kiss anyone else even if he wanted to now that he knows what this feels like. Hinata is pure electric warmth, and he tastes like honey, and his hands wander like someone who  _ wants,  _ and Atsumu is already too consumed by it. If this had been the old him, he might not have been able to put on the brakes, but this person he is now doesn’t want to give Hinata a reason to regret this. It’s still too fragile, too unknown. 

His fingers feather across Hinata’s chest, drifting up to his neck to brush against his skin, and that’s how he falls asleep, content and considerably less worried than he was when he first walked into the room a few hours before.

The next morning comes too fast. It doesn’t feel like a full night’s sleep, but somehow he feels better rested than he has been in ages.

They’re disturbed by the sound of Hinata’s mom and Natsu rushing through the hall to get everything ready for her graduation. Atsumu opens his eyes to find Hinata still unconscious, but the position he finds him in makes him want to be selfish and keep him like that for the rest of the morning. 

Hinata is fast asleep in his arms, wrapped around his chest like a koala, and Atsumu has his free arm shoved up the back of Hinata’s shirt, and in a perfect world, they could stay like this for a few more hours, but they  _ cannot  _ stay like this.

“Shoyo,” he mutters before bonking their heads together. “Wake up.”

Hinata grumbles in his arms and pushes down until his face smashes against Atsumu’s chest.

_ “Shoyo.” _

“Uh uh,” he pouts, refusing to open his eyes.

“I think they’re gettin’ ready.”

Hinata’s eyes fly open in horror.  _ “Shit.” _

“Wakey wakey,” he says before a big stretch.

“My alarm,” he whispers sharply. “I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

Atsumu pauses mid-stretch. “Uh oh.”

“Oh no.”

Hinata sits up in a flash, orange hair sticking out in every direction and cheeks swollen from sleep but looking as alert as ever.

This is a problem.

If this were any other morning in any other house, they would be busy looking at each other shyly and figuring out how to arrange themselves, but this is the guest room in Hinata’s mom’s house and they just woke up together while everyone else in the house is busy rushing around right outside the door. This doesn’t look good.

Atsumu swears under his breath and runs his hand through his hair. It’s matted from sleep, and Hinata watches the movement like a hawk, eyes floating over him too intensely. “What?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles.

Atsumu frowns and looks down at himself. His torso is bare, and the sheet hangs around his hips hiding the sweatpants beneath, and he suddenly feels a little exposed. He looks at Hinata who is still staring and frowns before covering his chest with his arms. “What’re you looking at?”

“Nothing,” he says in half a daze. “Oh! Shit, sorry.”

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Shut up.”

Atsumu grins like a fox, pleased, and Hinata makes a face before pushing himself up on his knees. He tilts his head to each side to crack his neck and looks at the door. 

“I’ve gotta get ready,” he whispers. 

“I know,” he whispers back. “Do you want me to go distract yer mom so you can sneak out?”

“I think I can wait them out.” He crawls off the bed and steps carefully across the room. He presses his ear against the door and frowns. “I think they’re downstairs.”

Atsumu gets up too and follows him. 

“What are you doing,” Hinata asks.

He reaches down and grabs his shirt before pulling it over his head to make himself decent. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom when you sneak out so it’s not weird when the door closes.”

“Oh my god, this is like a heist,” Hinata says a little too loudly. 

Atsumu jerks and covers his mouth with his palm, and Hinata mumbles displeased against his hand.  _ “Shhh.” _

Hinata stills, eyebrows drawn together in defiance, and Atsumu lets down his guard just long enough for Hinata to slurp the palm of his hand with his tongue. He scowls in disgust and wipes it off on Hinata’s shirt, and everything is weirdly okay. 

It was reasonable for Atsumu to expect the worst. That’s what happens when glass breaks, but this is Hinata he’s talking about. Hinata doesn’t throw people away. He isn’t sure why he thought he would have been the exception.

They wait until they’re absolutely sure no one is in the hall before they make their move. They open the door and sneak out. Hinata moves towards his room, and Atsumu closes his door behind him and heads towards the bathroom. That was easy, he thinks.

Atsumu cleans himself up a little so that he doesn’t look like he needs to be dunked in a tub of hot water and brushes his teeth before heading downstairs. Hinata calls him into the kitchen, and it looks like they’ve got the room to themselves. He waits for the awkwardness to come, but it doesn’t. Hinata looks the same as always, padding around the kitchen tiles barefoot while he gets bowls and things out of the cabinet, and everything is fine.

“You hungry?” 

“Kinda,” he lies. He doesn’t feel like he can eat, and he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to impose anymore than he already has. 

Hinata looks over his shoulder and eyes him seriously. “I can do cereal or toast, but if you want an egg, you’re not allowed to complain if it’s crunchy.”

“Why would an egg be crunch– cereal’s fine.”

Hinata does not cook. When they hang out, Hinata is not allowed near the kitchen. Atsumu doesn’t have much room to talk because that’s more Osamu’s thing, but the idea of Hinata coming near a stove with a  _ flame,  _ let alone being allowed to crack an egg sparks a certain kind of terror in him that makes him want to preemptively call the fire department. 

It’s sweet, though. Hinata is making him breakfast kind of, which is new, but it’s cute, and he feels a little spoiled.

_ It’s just cereal, dude, get it together. _

_ Shoyo spent the night with me on purpose and is now making me breakfast in his pajamas. _

_ That’s not getting it together. _

“Let’s see,” he mutters while digging through the cabinets. Hinata pushes himself up on his tip toes and reaches with a frustrated grunt. Atsumu gets up and comes up behind him and grabs the box he’s struggling for and sets it on the counter.  _ “Thanks.” _

“Mhm,” he hums and grabs a bowl. “You want cereal too?”

“Toast for me,” he says. “If I eat too much sugar, I won’t be able to sit still during the ceremony.”

“At least you’re aware,” he teases, and Hinata jams his elbow into his ribs with a  _ hey _ , and Atsumu yelps in pain before laughing, amused.

“Jerk,” Hinata huffs. Atsumu grins and sits back down at the table with his cereal. Hinata drops a couple slices of bread into the toaster and digs out the margarine from the fridge, going through about three containers of leftovers before he finds it. He eats leaned up against the counter, and Natsu soon comes in and goes for the cereal.

“Morning,” she says.

“Morning,” they both manage with full mouths. 

She sits across the table from Atsumu and sets her phone next to her bowl, tapping and swiping with one finger while her other hand shovels cereal into her mouth. 

Atsumu glances over at Hinata who isn’t looking at either of them, eyes glued to the floor as he chews robotically. 

It’s  _ really  _ quiet. Atsumu’s spoon clinks against the bowl, and he winces as he causes time to move again, and oh boy should he not have done that.

“You two stayed up late,” she comments, and they both freeze. She looks up at them both and smirks into a snort. “Oh my  _ god.” _

“Shh,” Hinata hisses, making a slicing motion with his hand that Atsumu interprets as  _ shut up or mom’ll hear you. _ He drops his voice into a whisper. “It’s not like that.”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Sure it’s not.”

Atsumu buries his face in his hand, unable to defend himself. There’s not even anything to defend himself of, but it wouldn’t matter either way. This is Hinata’s  _ sister.  _ She’s only out for blood, not  _ truth. _

“Must have heard someone else sneak into Atsumu’s room last night.”

“I did not  _ sneak.” _

“That’s for sure.”

Hinata opens his mouth to argue, but snaps it shut. “We had stuff to talk about.”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Sure.”

“So Cocoa Puffs,” Atsumu interjects. “Is that yer favorite cereal?”

Natsu doesn’t even look up from her phone. “You tryna make small talk with me after deflowering my big brother, cowboy?”

“I did not de–,” Atsumu barks and catches himself.  _ “That _ did not happen, Carrot Top.”

Natsu glances up at him, but Atsumu doesn’t flinch, and she breaks out into a smirk. “Alright.”

“Alright?” Hinata asks. “Are you gonna tell mom?”

“What’s to tell,” she shrugs. “Hey can I have $20?”

Atsumu doesn’t have to guess that it’s coming out of  _ his  _ wallet. The price of silence is high and steep, but boy is he willing to pay it.

Natsu finishes first and heads back up stairs to get ready. Hinata brushes the crumbs off of his shirt and walks over to sit at the table with him. He pulls a chair out next to Atsumu, but Atsumu grabs his wrist and pulls him into his lap instead. He wraps his arms around him and rests his head on Hinata’s shoulder with a tired sigh.

Hinata grabs the spoon and takes a bite of Atsumu’s cereal, unbothered by his change of seat.

“Thief,” he mumbles.

“Opportunist,” he corrects him. “I should get some Cocoa Puffs when we get back.”

“They’re good.”

“Mhm.”

This is normal for them despite how odd it might look from the outside, but this is the first time Atsumu has ever felt weird about it. He wonders if he should ask Hinata if him doing that was okay and if he needs some space, but before he gets the chance, Hinata drops the spoon back into the bowl, turns slightly, and rests against him, making Atsumu fully support his weight in his arms.

“Did you sleep okay,” Atsumu manages.

“Better than at the hotel,” he laughs. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I slept fine.”

“Hmm.”

They fall silent, and Hinata lets himself be held for a little while longer. It’s comforting, Atsumu thinks, that they can be close even when they’re not ready to act like themselves. He doesn’t know how much longer he could have handled Hinata not looking at him. He doesn’t know how much longer he could have handled not speaking to him. What would he have done if things had changed so much that he couldn’t be near him anymore?

“Am I too heavy?”

“No.”

Hinata turns his head towards him and looks at him with a soft frown, and Atsumu waits. He waits for words that might hurt or for Hinata to stand up on his own to push him away, and he will respect any of it, but instead Hinata raises his hand to his cheek, cupping his jaw carefully.

“Can I,” he asks quietly.

“I promised.”

This time it’s Hinata who presses their lips together, cold and chapped, but it warms him through. It’s softer than last night and chaste, and when he pulls away, Atsumu leans forward like he’s being pulled with him.

He giggles at Atsumu’s eagerness and rewards him with a kiss on the tip of his nose. Atsumu scrunches his face up into a pout. “Not enough.”

“Later,” Hinata mocks Atsumu doing his best to make sure he got enough sleep, but when Atsumu raises his eyebrow, Hinata’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just said. “Wait.”

“It’s fine,” he laughs and plants a kiss on one of his flushed cheeks.

Hinata sighs pleasantly and buries his nose in Atsumu’s neck. _ This  _ is new. This is different, and he likes it a little too much.

Atsumu reaches up and runs his fingers through the hair right above Hinata’s neck, and he feels him nuzzle into him.

“You smell good,” he says into his skin.

“Do I?”

“Mhm,” Hinata nods. “You always smell good.”

Atsumu hugs him tighter and hears him breathe him in, and it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever experienced. Hinata is relaxed against him and clinging to him without any sort of rigid, unsureness, and he wants to preserve this forever. 

Then he thinks about how he probably smells like hotel room and car ride and sweat and feels bad that Hinata has shoved his face in it.

“I need to shower.”

“Nuh uh,” he says, still wedged in the crook of his neck, and Atsumu laughs.

“You’re so weird,” he says fondly.

“So?”

_ “So,”  _ Atsumu repeats. Hinata sits up and makes a face.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?”

“You’ve met ‘Samu.”

Hinata laughs and nods. “Alright, fine, that’s fair.”

Atsumu can’t help himself. He wants to milk this for whatever he can falling one step short of batting his eyelashes and asking  _ do you think I’m pretty?  _ “Do you think I’m annoying?”

“Yes,” he nods. 

Atsumu scowls into a pout, and Hinata giggles before kissing it away, and god, does that feel good. He hasn’t had enough for a full list, but he thinks his top two favorite Hinata kisses are the ones that make him feel like every layer of himself is being peeled away by someone itching to get closer to his core and the ones that Hinata steals in these small moments of mischief and fondness, even though he can’t believe he’s allowed to have either.

He pulls him back to him and lets himself have a small sample of the first. It doesn’t have the raw ache it did last night, but it doesn’t change the fact that feeling Hinata shift in his lap so he can deepen the kiss on his own makes his ears ring.

“Come here,” he says quietly, and Hinata grabs his face, fully trusting him to support his weight so that he doesn’t fall. Atsumu wouldn’t dare drop him anyway, but that trust… hoo boy. That’s the good shit, right there. He thinks he might be smitten.

“‘Tsumu,” he mumbles. Atsumu manages a nasal  _ hm?  _ “Your mouth tastes like Cocoa Puffs.”

“I just ate Cocoa Puffs,” he mumbles back.

“Mhm. It’s nice.”

Oh yeah, he’s  _ smitten  _ smitten. This dude really stuck his hand in his chest, found his heart, and squeezed as hard as he could, and he doesn’t even realize it. Atsumu’s whole world now is a tangerine, and he doesn’t regret a thing except for maybe waiting so long to find out what Hinata’s mouth feels like.

Now that he has the chance, he takes and tries and explores, and it’s too good. He’s lightheaded and foolish and wrapped up in this person more than he ever thought he could be, and he’s so happy, he forgets exactly where he is.

“Natsu,” a woman’s voice calls out. “Have you seen my phone?”

Hinata jerks away with a gasp and hops up, landing ungracefully in the next chair. His eyes must be as wide as Atsumu’s feel as they peel off of each other like teenagers, wiping their mouths and smoothing their hair before they get caught. Of all the impressions Atsumu did  _ not _ want to leave his mom with, her catching them in the middle of a  _ moment  _ is probably number one.

He shoves the spoon in his mouth as if he was eating this whole time. Most of the remaining cereal has dissolved into a sad chocolate mush, but it’s not like he can taste it under this much stress anyway.

Hinata’s mom comes into the kitchen not long after and greets them both. “Morning, boys.”

“Morning,” they chime like cherubs. She doesn’t seem to notice anything’s off.

“Was the guest room okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Atsumu says. His throat feels tight as he waits for her to realize that he’s a dirty gremlin who brought shame upon her family in her own house. With kisses. Okay, it could have been worse. He glances at Hinata who just stole his cereal bowl. It could have been a lot worse. “Oh, I wanted to ask, while yall’re gone, could I use yer washin’ machine. All our stuff got rained on.”

Hinata side eyes him and smirks. Atsumu winces as he resists the urge to tell him to shut up because he  _ knows.  _ He knows his accent does the thing when he’s nervous. He knows, and he heard it. He might as well have yeehawed at her while he’s at it.

“Oh I can take care of it when we get back,” she tells him with a smile. “I always do Shoyo’s laundry when he comes home.”

“Not  _ always _ ,” Hinata mumbles.

“It’s fine,” he laughs. “I’m gonna have a lotta free time anyway.”

Atsumu not going to the graduation ceremony is not a sore subject. He knew before they even made plans for him to drive Hinata here that they only had a limited number of tickets available per student that were reserved weeks ago, and Hinata and his mom obviously made up guests number one and two so it’s not like he feels like a dog left in the rain, but also, what else is he going to do for the whole morning while they’re out other than laundry and nap?

She hums. “Are you sure?”

“Yes ma’am, if that’s okay.”

Natsu comes into the kitchen before she can answer. Her eyes dart to Hinata and Atsumu, and she smirks, in on the big secret, but her mother is too busy pouring herself another cup of coffee to notice. “Your phone was in your room.”

“Thanks,” she says. She swipes open the screen as she takes a sip from her mug. “We need to leave here in an hour.”

“Okay, mom,” Natsu says before heading back upstairs.

_ “Shoyo.” _

“Oh, me!” Hinata jumps up. “Sorry, yeah, I’ll go get dressed!”

He skids across the floor as he runs out, almost sliding into the cabinet as he goes, and Atsumu drops his head in his hand and sighs.  _ He’s so cute, I’m gonna die. _

“I feel bad just leaving you like this,” Hinata’s mom says, bursting his little secretly smitten bubble.

_ Oh no, she’s still here.  _

He sits back up and reclaims his cereal bowl. It’s just chocolate milk at this point, but it’s more so to give himself something to do with his hands than anything. Hinata, the thief, barely left him anything to scoop out with a spoon so he pretends to mix whatever is left inside.

“It’s no problem,” he assures her. “But I can understand havin’ a stranger in yer home when yer not here might feel weird, if you want me to–.”

“You’re hardly a stranger,” she makes a face and raises her eyebrow. “You don’t have to leave, though, if that’s what you were about to say.”

He feels his ears burn as he realizes he  _ was  _ about to offer to go hide at a Walmart for three hours. Whatever, this isn’t his own mom’s house, and he doesn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable just because there wasn’t an alternative way for Hinata to get here in time. 

She takes a deep breath into a sigh and tops off her coffee with more coffee. “I just can’t help but feel bad leaving you here when you’ve done so much for Shoyo.”

Atsumu pauses from raising his empty milk spoon to his mouth.  _ When I’ve done what? _

She scrunches her nose in amusement and turns to leave too. “Wifi password is on the fridge. We should be back before noon, but if you want to order something, I left some money on the coffee table, and all the laundry stuff is on the shelf above the washer. Ah, that should be it….”

“Got it”, he nods so she can go finish getting ready too. “Thank you.”

She smiles and leaves, taking her refilled coffee with her, and Atsumu slumps down in his seat. He feels like he’s going to need to book a massage after having to experience fifty different kinds of tension in this house. His whole body already aches from the trip and the hotel bed, but now the muscles in his neck have tightened up something fierce. 

_ Shoyo and his family are going to be the death of me. _

He groans quietly and pushes himself to clean up from breakfast. He makes himself useful by cleaning up Hinata and Natsu’s breakfast dishes too and wonders if he should go back up to his room and hide until they leave or if he should sit in the living room and see them off. He silently curses Hinata for leaving to get ready because now he’s lost and standing in the kitchen by himself without a clue.

He thinks the polite thing to do would be to wait in the living room so he goes and sits straight as a board on the couch with his back and shoulders squared off and his hands folded neatly on his lap. If a pen dropped, he’d probably startle himself to death, but this is a lot, okay. 

He’s kind of a guest in a stranger’s home (by pure necessity, not invitation), Hinata is not here to babysit him as his social link to said stranger and stranger’s home, he has recently kissed said Hinata more than he has kissed another human being in the last two or three years (shut up, he’s just been too busy pining to spend time racking up hookups, it’s not like he  _ couldn’t  _ if he wanted to) who he did not know he was allowed to do that with, and now he’s sitting in the aftermath like an idiot while he waits for more glass to break.

_ Get out of my house. _

_ I don’t know what got into me. _

He waits, and his body braces for impact.

He doesn’t turn on the television, and like an idiot he didn’t get the wifi password while he was still in the kitchen so he’s limited on ways to occupy his time. He decides that bothering Osamu could be fun, but he might not be awake yet. If not, it’s time for someone to wake up, screw timezones!

**Atsumu:** hey

**Atsumu:** hey

**Atsumu:** hey

**Atsumu:** wake up

**Atsumu:** hey

**Atsumu:** hey

**Atsumu:** o brother where art thou

**Osamu:** ಠ_ಠ

**Atsumu:** hey

**Osamu:** wHY

**Atsumu:** i didnt wake you did i? C:

**Osamu:** i’m gonna kill you

**Atsumu:** you can try

**Osamu:** i’m going back to bed

**Atsumu:** NO WAIT

**Atsumu:** i need help

**Osamu:** with what

**Atsumu:** i’m bored

**Osamu:** … bye

**Atsumu:** oh come on they’re all busy getting ready and i’m just sitting here it feels so WEIRD

**Osamu:** go for a walk

**Atsumu:** you’re not helpful at all 

**Atsumu:** i want a new brother 

**Atsumu:** where’s the receipt 

**Osamu:** ur making my dreams come true 🥺 

**Atsumu:** act hurt damn it 😭 

**Osamu:** no ❤️ 

**Atsumu:** ok fine go back to sleep see if i care

**Osamu:** thanks i’m gonna

**Atsumu:** oh but i was gonna tell you i think me and shoyo are a thing now lol oops

**Osamu:** “now”

**Osamu:** lol

**Osamu:** lol thanks for the update i’m going to bed

**Atsumu:** what do you mean “now”

**Osamu:** lol

**Atsumu:** quit laughing at me what do you mean

**Atsumu:** samu

**Atsumu:** hey

**Atsumu:** GET BACK HERE

A weight drops down against him, and he almost tosses his phone in the air in surprise. Hinata sinks down in the cushion and sighs. He’s dressed in a pair of fitted black slacks and a white button up, but before Atsumu can behold the sight, he’s punched in the face with the smell of fresh soap and a splash of cologne or maybe aftershave, and it’s intoxicating. 

His mind pieces together a  _ you look good  _ and a  _ you smell good _ , but his mouth blurts out an intelligent  _ whoa. _

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hinata laughs. “I know I look like a vacuum salesman.”

Atsumu swallows. That’s not the visage he has in mind, but he can make it work. 

“I like it,” he offers. 

Hinata squints and smacks the back of his hand against Atsumu’s forehead. “Are you sick? Do we need to take you to the doctor?”

“No,” he laughs and swats him away. “I’m fine.”

“But your face has been red all day.”

Atsumu looks at him and blinks. If Hinata wasn’t being dead serious, he would kick him for that. “I’m  _ fine.” _

“Okay,” he hums and closes his eyes. “My mom will kill you though if you get her sick.”

“I’m not sick!”

Hinata opens one of his eyes. 

Atsumu clears his throat and continues. “I mean, I’m really okay.”

He hums and nods. “Is your stomach still upset?”

“My what?”

“You got sick in the hotel,” he reminds him.

“Oh! Oh, yeah I’m fine! Couldn’t be better!”

_ Oh yeah, ‘tsumu, yer a fuckin’ catch, aren’tcha. He thinks yer gonna shit yerself. _

Hinata hums and nods again and slides over so he can rest his head on his shoulder.

“You don’t need to nap, yer leavin’ soon.”

Hinata nods, but he doesn’t move. “Just five minutes.”

“No,” he says, but he rests his head on Hinata’s instead of actually making any sort of effort to rouse him. Hinata’s hair is still damp from a recent shower, but it feels nice against his cheek. It’s cooling.  _ Maybe I am getting sick… _

“You’re a good friend, ‘Tsumu,” he mumbles.

“I had some extra vacation days.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

They don’t say anything else until it’s time for Hinata to leave. Atsumu suspects that he actually just fell asleep, but Hinata insists that he was only resting his eyes. 

Atsumu wishes Natsu good luck, and Hinata teases her about needing it so she doesn’t trip on the stairs, and she regards them both with the respectively appropriate amount of contempt. He wonders how long she’s going to be mad at him for smooching her brother which he still insists is not  _ that  _ bad.

Now that the house is empty, he feels like he can relax. It’s his first real moment alone in the last couple of days, and the quiet from two empty stories is disarming.

He turns on the TV for some background noise. It was left on the same channel from the movie they watched, and it looks like it’s playing a marathon of a detective show. 

He then goes upstairs to get his clothes and brings them back down to wash. Thankfully, the washer and dryer are in a faux closet on the first floor and not down in a basement because he is  _ not  _ about to go down in somebody’s creepy ass basement when no one else is home.

He’s careful measuring out the detergent so he doesn’t use too much, but then he shoves in all his clothes at once, ignoring any warnings about color and content sorting he may have been given in the past. 

He can’t shower until they finish drying so he’s stuck  _ waiting _ , and that just makes him antsy. He texts Osamu again who has apparently gone back to asleep because there’s no  _ way  _ his dearest twin would ever ignore him, of course, and he sends Kita a brief thanks for his help. (Kita, on the other hand, is characteristically awake but too busy doing farm things to text him back). He texts Hinata too who can entertain him until the ceremony starts, but there isn’t a very big window for that.

It’s… boring, and too quiet, and a little uncomfortable, but he knew it was going to be like this going in.

_ Maybe I should have gone to Walmart. _

He watches two episodes before the clothes finish, and then he takes them upstairs to “fold” if folding is the name of the action of shoving all of one’s hot clothes back into the suitcase. 

He grabs a clean shirt and pants and finally takes his shower. The water pressure is a godsend to his sore shoulders, and he can finally scrub himself clean and shave, becoming a little more like himself. 

He then heads back downstairs, turns off the TV because, you know, good guests preserve electricity he guesses, and then, finally, like a miracle sent from heaven, he finally gets to take his nap.

His body hits the bed, and it’s almost in slow motion. He was too stressed to appreciate it last night, but now, now he’s all but consumed with the billowing softness. This is a good bed. This is what beds are supposed to sleep like. If he had come here with a flatbed truck, it would be going home with him.

He hugs the pillow and smiles. Just a short nap while no one’s here won’t hurt anyone. He’s just resting his eyes.

Resting his eyes absolutely did not turn into a full deep sleep, he insists to himself as he wakes up feeling  _ too  _ warm and compressed.

It takes him a moment to register that the strange weight and heat he feels is coming from a person (he won’t name any names) attached to him like a backpack, snoring lightly into his neck. 

_ This dude is tryna kill me. _

He rolls over carefully so he can see his face. His hand drops to Hinata’s hip as Hinata sleeps, and he watches him fondly. He’s a mess of soft orange hair and his usual gym clothes, and he looks like he’s never had anything to worry about in his life. It takes everything Atsumu has to not reach up and touch his cheek.

Sensing someone is staring (how dare they), Hinata’s eyes blink open, and he smiles lazily upon seeing who it is. 

“You guys back?”

Hinata nods. “Mom and Natsu went shopping for a graduation present.”

“You didn’t wanna go with ‘em?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not allowed to help.”

Atsumu snorts. “Why not?”

“Mom thinks I’m a bad influence,” he says vaguely. Atsumu raises an eyebrow. “I simply suggested that my baby sister deserves a car for being such a good student.”

Atsumu laughs brightly and bonks their heads together. “Yer mom’s gonna kill ya.”

“I thought it was a great idea!”

“It was a great idea,” he nods, and Hinata laughs, sleepy and pleased with himself. “I’d ban ya too.”

Hinata smacks him playfully with a pout. “I wasn’t  _ banned.” _

“Mhm…”

“I was removed.”

Atsumu cackles and rolls over on his back, wiping tears from his eyes as he thinks about it. “They dropped you off and left you, didn’t they!”

“Shut up,” he whines. “You weren’t there! You don’t know!”

“Looks like to me you were kicked out of the car, and you came and crawled into bed with me to make yerself feel better,” he observes. “This is so sad…”

“I’m gonna go nap in my room,” he says flatly and rolls to leave, but Atsumu is faster. He snatches him up in his arms and yanks him back over, and Hinata pretends to struggle for just a second before folding in on himself with a pout. “You suck.”

“I know,” he sighs, still holding him. “Go back to sleep, yer cranky.”

“Am not.”

“Is that so?”

Hinata looks over his shoulder and scowls. Atsumu laughs again and lets him go, and Hinata moves over to get comfortable again. It’s not so warm anymore. Atsumu doesn’t like it.

Hinata closes his eyes and smiles like he’s about to go back to sleep, and Atsumu lets him. Kind of.

He watches him again with intent, studying his face as his mind moves a thousand different ways and settles on something that is not as uncomfortable as he thought it would be.

“Yer awfully okay with this.”

Hinata opens his eyes, but the look he gives him is more confused than pensive, and Atsumu realizes he has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. He’s not sure he wants to explain himself.

“You were pissed…,” he adds.

“Oh! Yeah, I was.”

_ Oof. _

“But like, of course I’m okay with it,” he continues. “I mean, I was pissed...”

His voice trails off, and Atsumu waits while he gathers his thoughts. He suspects this is going to feel like a punch to the teeth, but he doesn’t want to rush Hinata into saying what he might not want to either.

“I was pissed because, like, it felt like this was something you’ve talked about with other people.”

“Oh.”

“And not me.”

“I haven’t though. I mean, I didn’t know– no, I haven’t.”

Hinata swallows and nods, understanding. “And then I was extra pissed because you said it was up to me, and, like, no it wasn’t, dude.”

“Huh?”

“If you’re like gee I really wanna go get burgers, but only if Shoyo wants to get burgers, but I’m not gonna ask if he wants burgers, it’s not my fault if we don’t get burgers!”

Atsumu blinks.

“You didn’t say anything. How was I supposed to know what was going on inside your head?”

“Okay, but if that was an option, why didn’t you say anythin’ either?”

Hinata flops over on his back and huffs. “Sure, let me just ask my super cool tortilla chip of a best friend if he wants to go steady.”

“Tortilla chip,” Atsumu half squeaks.

“You’re shaped like a fucking Dorito, dude, it’s not fair.”

Hinata takes a deep breath and continues, finally letting out a lifetime’s worth of frustration Atsumu never knew he was holding in.

“Like, okay, you’re tall and pretty and cool and you’ve got those  _ eyebrows  _ and you always look like you just rolled out of bed but like in a good way, and you’re good at everything, and I’m just happy I get to spend the most time with you other than, like, ‘Samu.”

“You said the F word,” Atsumu says.

“Shut up,” he covers his face. 

Atsumu slides over next to him and lays his arm across his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I just didn’t wanna lose ya.”

“I know,” he nods. “Me too.”

Atsumu falls silent for a moment while he gathers his thoughts. Hinata  _ likes  _ him. Hinata is  _ interested  _ in him. He’s allowed to have this?

“Yer my favorite person, Shoyo.”

Hinata turns his head slightly and looks at him with so much warmth that he could bottle it and save it for later. This is his number one, his partner in crime, his little pocket of sunshine, and he is the most precious person in the world, and oh lord does Atsumu feel like crying.

“Yer ma fav’rite person, tew, ‘Tsumu,” Hinata teases, and Atsumu manages a  _ that’s it _ before slinging his leg over him and covering Hinata’s squealing face with a pillow. “Oh no! I was kidding! Your accent is great! No, don’t kill me!”

“I’m gonna!”

“No!”

“Goodbye, Shoyo!”

“Goodbaa, Shoyo,” he mocks him, voice muffled by the pillow Atsumu isn’t  _ actually  _ smothering him with. 

“Yer just mean, arentcha?”

Hinata erupts into a fit of giggles, and Atsumu tosses the pillow to the side. He looks up at him, and his face is bright and red, and  _ ah shit,  _ he’s the one isn’t he? He’s it for him. Maybe he always was.

His laughter settles down, and he catches his breath, and he’s so small and beautiful, it’s heartbreaking. Atsumu wonders if he’s allowed to take a picture of this—Hinata’s orange hair splayed out around his head against the pillow like a halo, practically bursting with joy—but no, a picture could never capture this. This feeling isn’t something a person, not even himself, can ever really see, he’s sure of it.

He swallows, and Hinata’s smile fades in anticipation like he’s waiting for the glass shield around them to break too. Atsumu reaches up and brushes his thumb across his sheet, and Hinata reaches up and covers his hand with his own.

“I’ma selfish guy, Shoyo,” he says. “Ima keep ya all to myself unless you tell me not to.”

Hinata blinks up at him without saying a word, and he takes that as permission.

Permission for what?

“Okay,” he says with a nod. 

Permission to feel, maybe. Permission to have?

Permission to give.

The next day they wake up bright and early to pack up and head back across the country  _ again,  _ and that sucks. That  _ really  _ sucks. 

Now that he knows what it feels like to come this far, he dreads it so much that he feels physically sick. Hinata the Sunshine, however, is too busy trying to climb him like a tree to take his keys from him to feel anything but excitement.

“Come on, this is my hometown, lemme drive!”

“No,” he says, holding the keys up above their heads. “You grind my gears.”

“Is that a metaphor,” he grunts as he jumps. 

“Might be.”

Hinata finally snatches his keys victoriously and heads over to the driver’s side. He looks at him over the hood and wiggles his eyebrows. “You know what, next time we come here, we’re flying.”

_ “We?!” _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! :3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/godtoga)
> 
> Some notes:  
> — Breakfast Mountain, the diner, and the hotel sharing the parking lot are based on a real place and that’s really on the menu (well under a different name).  
> — Kageyama is my favorite HQ character; I just wanted to show Atsumu being a little jealous, no harm intended. 😭  
> — A few hints of a past relationship in there I didn’t tag because they take up _maybe_ less than five lines, but if that was a problem, I’m sorry. :(


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